


The Aen Seidhe Tales

by Pantea_Ateia



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Canon Compilant (more or less), Canon-Typical Violence, Multi, Politics, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-11-01 08:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 91
Words: 109,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17863994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pantea_Ateia/pseuds/Pantea_Ateia
Summary: It's hard to say when or where the story begins. Some say, that it started in Dol Blathanna as Aen Seidhe decided to descent from the Blue Mountains to fight for their land and their freedom. Others say, that it started in Redania, where some were equal and some were not. I heard it in the early summer, long time ago. Sometimes, I wish I had never heard it. Sometimes, I wish I knew more.





	1. Marquise Serenity the night of Midaëte 1262

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, belong to their authors or legal successors.

THE AEN SEIDHE TALES

 

Prologue

 

Two Girls and the Favourite Client

 

MARQUISE SERENITY

 

the night of Midaëte 1262  
the Passiflora  
Free City of Novigrad

 

Every Madam has her favourite girls and favourite clients... Marquise Serenity had both. Now, her favourite client and two favourite girls were in the same room – the black room with silver decorations. The room was elegant and sophisticated with a master-size bed - ornamented with iron, lace-like bolster and four pillars - which stood by the wall. There were four matching armchairs and a rope-swing, all on the opposite side of the room. There was no window. To the right from the bed stood an ebony table and on the left side of the room, by the wall, there was a black, huge wardrobe with exquisite elven vegetal ornaments.  
It was a special room. As every owner of such a place, Madam had a peep-hole facing the bed located just above the spot where the armchairs stood. And in a room such as this it was especially important to be able to monitor what is happening to her girls. It started a few years ago with some handcuffs and a whip. But since 1260, the year when her favourite client and her two favourite girls met for the first time, the collection was growing. Amrynn - the light-brown haired pure-blooded Aen Seidhe with eyes green like grass and Caoimhe - raven-haired, also pure-blooded Aen Seidhe with exceptional silver eyes unlike any other, were her pride and the best-paid girls she had. But both of them had their whims and could be difficult. Especially, when the Madam tried to make them do something, that they didn't want to. And they never flirted openly with clients: they were too proud for that. Appointment with them was rather a chase with a prize at the end than a prostitute lying herself in front of you. There was always some role-playing involved and the wealthier the client the more interesting were the costumes. Amrynn adored playing tough and unavailable, while Caoimhe pretending to be shy and innocent - they were the pair made in the sweetest hell for every owner of such a place as Passiflora. The Madam considered both girls rather as exclusive courtesans than whores. This policy paid off, obviously. Clients loved them and sometimes paid just to watch them cum or just to spent time in their company, even with no touching involved. But they knew well how to please the client, as well. Just... take your pick.

 

 _the night of Savoine 1260_  
_Passiflora_  
_Novigrad_

 _Back in 1260 on the night of Savoine to Passiflora came a girl. For many just a dh'oine but the Madam knew better. She could read a woman at first sight and she knew, that there is much, much more to that girl than what meets the eye. She was wearing black booties: elven made with small heels. On her legs were black leather trousers, not too tight but fitting enough to reveal full curves of her tights, hips and bottom. Above she was wearing a silver shirt and royal-blue jacket with elven ornaments. She had a basic manicure and very short nails, no make-up. But this was not the most interesting part. She had at least two daggers – one on her ankle and the other on her hip. Additionaly, on the jacket there were traces of leather belts for double-swords sheaths. Her face... well, she wasn't a typical beauty, though her nose and cheek-bones were graceful enough, as was her small but sensual lips. It was the eyes – piercing blue-grey and pale complexion, adorned by her auburn hair, which caught the eye._  
_She thought, that the girl looks like a morning in the late Lammas: cold but full of sun. The Madam would pay any price to make this girl work for her but from the first glance she knew, that it would never happen. What a shame... What she saw here was a born dominatrix. Well..._  
_The Madam was watching her coming and to her surprise, after just a moment, her Caoimhe was at the girl's side and was handing her a glass of red wine. Soon, both were joined in the waiting room by Amrynn. After maybe half an hour, all three were gone to the black room. They spent there the whole night, including falling asleep together. In the morning, Madam was more than interested in what had happened, so she wanted to approach Amrynn by the breakfast but to her uttermost shock - the girl was in the private kitchen, chatting merrily with many of her girls. She left an hour later. Then, the Madam came to both Caoimhe and Amrynn, asking with slight irritation in her voice:_  
_“What..?”_  
_“She paid” – Amrynn interrupted. – “And she will be back, I hope. It was a good night, wasn't it Caoimhe?”_  
_“The sounds she makes! I enjoyed her immensely. And... she knows things about... well... torturing people but we modified some and we can add them to the room...” – the other Seidhe said sweetly and almost innocently._  
_“What? Torturing people? What do you mean?”_  
_“She didn't say much” – Amrynn answered – “but she spoke in details about things that you can do to, well... mix pain with pleasure. But not like dh'oine men like it: brutal and rough. No, it was sophisticated... We've done some things and I truly hope, that she will be back. We have for you a list of things to buy” – and she handed her a list. And a list it was but... it may paid off._  
_“And it was so nice to talk to her, she even stayed for breakfast. I mean... it was like it shall be: as it was real” – added Caoimhe. – “Not that I want male clients to stay a night, gods no! But sometimes it's nice to feel... normal.”_  
_Upon hearing that, the Madam decided – she had her favourite client._

 

Thas night, the Madam wanted to welcome the girl. She didn't have time as she arrived to do it, so she went in the direction of the room later. But, before going to the door, she looked through the peep-hole and it was the right decision. Amrynn was sitting comfortably in the armchair drinking wine, while Caoimhe was lying with hands tied to the bed and legs tied closely together, bent in her knees. The girl was kneeling, facing her, with hands in between Caoimhe's tights, obviously pleasuring her judging by the sounds, which came from the room. Then, the Madam heard:  
“No. Not yet” – spoken by the girl in a commanding voice. Caoimhe stopped with anticipation and pain in her face. – “If you move once again, I'll take my hands to keep them to myself” – she continued but chuckled sweetly – “you'll beat me hard for this, won't you?”  
“Yes” – the raven-haired beauty panted.  
“So, cause I'll pay for it, either way, we can converse a little bit in the meantime, can't we?”  
“Wha...?” – Caoimhe moaned but stopped in the middle, again.  
“You know, I heard some things about the Aen Seidhe, who are fighting in the woods and I heard, that at least some of them are quite... well... interesting” – she chuckled in the end.  
“I knew one of them on my free time, obviously” – Amrynn said – “he is truly a force of nature. It's a pity, that he left...”  
“Hmm...” – the girl was thinking for a while – “and you Caoimhe? Any experience?”  
“Yes” – she panted – “but I will not spe... Oh!”  
“Unless I let you come? Was that what you wanted to say?”  
But there was no answer. Caoimhe moaned and twitched violently. It was after a long while, as the girl moved from her and the raven-hair beauty allowed her knees to lay flat. After she was untied, she said in a dangerous voice:  
“I'll tell you when you get on the swing.”  
“OK” – the girl answered happily.  
Amrynn tied her hands, while the raven-haired girl was drinking wine and looking for a whip. However, what she took out from the wardrobe was no ordinary whip. It was a thick, leather training whip. The one, which was really painful. When the first blow collided with the pale skin of the dh'oine girl, she yelped and said laughing:  
“I deserved that.”  
“I've known one of them as well... we were close for a long time. He is a good man and they are right to fight” – Caoimhe said looking at the girl. Then, another hit came – “why do you ask?”  
“Just interested. A lot is going on now and it's good to know things, so nothing can surprise you.”  
Soon, two hits followed.  
“You are lying” – Caoimhe's voice was now truly dangerous.  
“Ca...” – another hit came hard, too hard. The girl screamed.  
“Who are you? Why do you ask?”  
“Caoimhe, stop” – it was Amrynn's voice.  
“Why is she asking these questions?” – the raven Seidhe asked angrily.  
“I won't hurt them, my sweet. And I won't ask ever again. Squass'me” – the girl's voice was steady and calm.  
Caoimhe looked at her for a long time and let go of the whip.  
“Come here” – the girl continued and Caoimhe did. She dropped to her knees and pleasured her with her mouth. The girl came, hard and multiple times.  
Afterwards, they all put light night-robes on themselves and the Madam knocked. After she was invited, she entered and started:  
“Caoimhe, Amrynn, go get something to eat and... Mahakaman spirit. I want to speak to her, alone.”

Silence fell when they left the room. It was the girl, who broke it:  
“I pushed her. What happened was my fault.”  
“You're bleeding” – the older woman said, concerned.  
“It's nothing.”  
“We'll clean this wound, either way.”  
“But you cannot clean theirs” – the girl looked at her with a sorrowful expression.  
“No, I can't.”  
“The storm is coming. And I'm not the one to just watch it” – the girl's voice was determined now.  
“I guessed that much. But what can you do?”  
“Not much, but...” – she fished a small gemstone, a ruby, from the pocket of her tossed trousers and gave it to the Madam before continuing – “promise me, that one day, when one of them, the Aen Seidhe: one of the groups they call Scoia'tael, comes here – you will help.”  
The silence followed. Both women were looking at each other with sadness and fear in their eyes. But the older still said:  
“I promise. Though, I believe, that this hot-headed young Seidhe, who wants to fight with humans are just an illness. It will pass, like a fever.”  
“You know... at 107 degrees of their measurement, 42 of ours, organs in a body are irreversibly damaged.”

There was nothing left to say after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers,
> 
> in one of the comments, one of you recommended music to listen to while reading the chapter and I thought, that more of you may have such recommendations. If so, write a comment and I will include them in the End Notes. 
> 
> For the first chapter I make the recommendation myself:
> 
> Claude Debussy “Clair de lune”


	2. Geralt Lammas 1269

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, belong to their authors or legal successors.

 

THE AEN SEIDHE TALES

 

PART I

 

Mare, Woman, Eagle, Spy

 

GERALT

 

Lammas 1269  
the Ravine of the Hydra  
Kestrel Mountains

_Following the Peace of Cintra, 35 officers of Vrihedd Brigade were brought here and executed, their throats cut. The elves' bodies were dropped into the chasm. I don't know what the riders of the Hunt were looking for._

~ The Witcher II, Assassins of the Kings by CDProjektRED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam Skorupa, Krzysztof Wierzynkiewicz „Souls in Ruin”


	3. Isengrim Lammas 1268

ISENGRIM

 

Lammas 1268  
Dillingen  
Brugge

It was the afternoon of a very hot day when they were led from the galley, which took them to the Northern bank of the Yaruga river. The haven was small, made of just three quays. The town itself was built mostly from the crimson red bricks, which were now almost glittering in the summer sun.

_Like blood. How suitable._

In the haven, Temerian forces were waiting for them in total silence. From afar, he saw civilians: grim and strongly built men with angry faces. His first thought was simple.

_They were paid to kill. The question is, whether Temerians will allow it or not. If they will, well, it may take a while to die. And for the first time in all my years of fighting, I am not ready, not to die like that._

But Temerian soldiers stood their ground in two lines, making the Aen Seidhe go between them. All had vicious smiles on their faces. Scoia'tael commanders, officers of the Vrihedd Brigade were led to their death silent, shackled, desperate and exhausted. Like sheep, humiliated. This made the dutiful soldiers more than happy and content from a little revenge they could have for years of diversion beyond the lines of Nordlings' armies. He understood that, although, he still despised these dh'oine with every inch of his existence. Did it change anything? No, but he knew, that he is still himself.  
Two Nilfgaardian officers, who were leading them and two, who were at the rear had no facial expressions whatsoever, though they knew them well. They were fighting side by side at Meyena and at Brenna. But it didn't matter at all.

_How Danza called it? Ah... a business decision. The Emperor needed to divide Nordlings first and then to please them after the defeat. He didn't know, that Temeria can muster so many men in such a short time. Foltest was playing him all along. But well... It doesn't change a thing. Now, he was selling us out. For peace? For the greater good?_

Hamilcar Danza - the officer, who encouraged the Aen Seidhe to fight for Nilfgaardian Army, was at the head of their sad procession. The same man, who asked them to pledge themselves to the Emperor's cause - was now the one to sell them out to Nordlings. And Francesca... Their Queen, Enid an Gleanna, who agreed to join Nilfgaardian Army. Even more – suggested it to be the best option. And where was she now? Far away, in Dol Blathanna she was watching the ashes settle on the valley. Observing death from the heights of her throne.

_Was it worth it? Is there a point in asking this question? And the spy..._

The conversation on the ship he, Iorveth and Coinneach had with another Nilfgaardian officer from their escort – Declan Winterbach – was still vivid in his memory:

_“I was thinking for a long time whether I shall tell you or not but I respect you colonel Faoiltiarna and I think you shall know” – Winterbach started._  
_“Funny thing. Do you want to tell me how to get away from this ship?” – Isengrim joked._  
_“No. This is beyond my competences.”_  
_“So, anything you'll tell me will soon die with me.”_  
_“Yes. This is the only reason, why I plan to share with you what I know.”_  
_“All right, Declan. Out with it” – it was Coinneach who lost his patience._  
_“You had a spy among Scoia'tael. A Temerian spy and some say, even de Rideaux agreed, the best of the best in our profession” – was what the Nilfgaardian said._  
_“Impossible!” – Iorveth stated with rage._  
_“That cannot be true. We trust our men” – Coinneach added._  
_“A woman. The one, who managed to blind you all. One by one” – Winterbach replied with a serious look. – “Was she worth it, gentlemen?”_  
_“What...?” – Iorveth started but never finished. He knew to whom he may refer to but he definitely refused to believe it. The only sound that came out of his mouth minutes later, when the Nilfgaardian had already been gone, was a desperate whisper – “sor'ca...”_

 

It was a voice of the third Nilfgaardian officer, the youngest among their escort, who walked next to Danza, what brought him back to reality. Isengrim didn't even remember his name. He asked in a strong and angry voice:  
“Hamilcar, do you see them? The group entering the warehouse?”  
“Yes” – replied his commanding officer without any emotion.  
“They were to have fair trials! Amnesty! This is a fucking death squad!” – the younger man said out loud, again.  
“Shut up, Galel. This is an order, officer” – this was the only reply from his older colleague.  
Only then Isengrim looked in the pointed direction. Indeed, there was a warehouse and a group of at least eleven men was entering it: all cloaked in black and dark brown. He saw their weapons – two swords crossed at their backs, bows made in Seidhe way: with double-arc and fine adornment visible even from a distance. All of them were wearing masks.

_Indeed. Death squad. Well, at least they know what they are doing. But... maybe I shall try?_

He was working on his shackles for two days by now. Typical lock, easy enough to open. Especially after one particularly hmm... educational night with an expert in lock-picking. It was the first time when he thought about her in the light of revelations he had heard on the ship.

_A useful skill for a spy, is it not?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fleurie, Tommee Profitt „Noble Blood”


	4. Isengrim Saovine 1264

ISENGRIM

 

Saovine 1264  
Dorian  
Temeria

_No one helps Scoia'tael just because it's the right thing to do. Right? So who was this woman? Why did she do it? Who, in their right mind, jumps into the fire? They were all talking about it – aenyell'hael... Baptism of fire... But she is the only one he knew, who actually did it and made it out._

That night, she was sitting in the small inn The Leafs and Grass in a small town which was alike many others. It was dusk and the houses were grey, which made it look quite depressing altogether. Red and green roofs of houses looked like holly and it was the only nice thing, that could be said about this place. But this particular town had its advantages: a brothel for one, a substantial population of Aen Seidhe and it was situated on the road form Wizima to Gors Velen. Isengrim was thinking for a long while whether his informant had been right.

_Is it her?_

He wanted to observe and, if possible, interrogate this woman. His small unit, not even a commando (yet) met Coinneach Da Réo near Egremont a month ago. Then and there, he heard a story of a young woman, who comes and goes as she pleases, but most importantly: the last time – came just in time with a group of her men to save a commando. After an undoubtedly heroic – even if strange – act of mercy, instead of answering questions about their motives and reasons, she managed to fuck into oblivion Coinneach (not that he objected to that) and disappeared after few days. No one knew how and why they came. No one knew what they planed to do next. They disappeared into thin air. If he didn't know better, he would think:

 _Ghosts_.

It took Isengrim and his four men a month to track them down. Mostly due to the fact, that instead of five men, there were now seven travelling with her – in the very moment all of them busy in the brothel. She changed her haircut and clothing to simple leather trousers and a warm fur coat. Two details, which gave her away at the town gate, were a horse – the blood-bay mare (according to Coinneach called Mearas) and two swords crossed at her back, though it was not so unusual to carry weapons this way. Still, Isengrim was almost sure as he saw her.

_It is her. This is a woman carrying weapons with ease. Her face is partially hidden behind a heavy scarf, hood and coat. She may be hiding from the cold but it's also quite convenient for a person, who doesn't want to be recognised. It is her._

In the inn, she took hood, scarf and coat off. Now, she was in casual but elegant and not cheap clothing, most recognisable of them was an elven ornamented jacket in midnight blue and silver. At her neck was glittering a lapis-lazuli necklace. Her dark auburn, straight hair and pale complexion were adding to the graceful look. He could not make the colour of her eyes from the distance and in the dim light of candles, but he would bet his life, that they were green.  
She was sitting casually eating and drinking wine, but it was obvious, that she is a traveller, who doesn't belong here. All the time she was carefully scanning the inn and its guests. One of the dh'oine at the bar caught her eyes and she looked down quickly. But a moment later, she was looking with a cocky smile at a blond Seidhe, who was sitting two tables from her.

_So she is on the hunt. It may be a good occasion._

Isengrim went back to the stables, where his men were waiting. He looked at Leanan and a wide grin crept on his face:  
“Newbie, this is your lucky day” – he said – “the girl, Fen as she called herself, is at the inn looking for an occasion to spend a good night. She prefers blond” – he grinned again.  
Leanan's expression went from terrified to interested.  
“And you want me to... do what?” – the young Seidhe asked with a smirk.  
“Fuck some answers out of her. But remember” – Isengrim paused – “you are going to get some answers not to please yourself. Is it understood?” – Isengrim asked seriously, looking carefully at the boy. He joined them three months ago: his clothes were still in order and his golden hair was as beautiful as they should be. He was a good bait.

Isengrim decided to wait outside the inn while Leanan went inside.

 

_Blathe 1246_  
_the Blue Mountains_

_He was observing his mother was weaving. The late spring was slowly coming to the mountains as well, but much later than in the valley below. He was watching her closely, tentatively as she started to cough._  
_“You are still sick, mother” – he said in a worried voice._  
_“It's nothing, Is, my dear son” – she answered avoiding his gaze._  
_Her slender fingers were furrowed, her figure thin, too thin. Her complexion was ashen and unhealthy. Her once reach chestnut hair was now mate and rare. He started to think about all the nights he didn't sleep – watching her breath, hearing her coughs, wondering whether she would wake up in the morning. She was alone and he was the only one she had, the only one who cared enough to nurture her in the winter when she became sick. As if reading his mind, she said in a small voice:_  
_“You can leave now. Go to her. She might one day become your future, while I'm no more than your past”._  
_“And who will hunt for you, mother?” – he replied irritated._  
_“I don't need meat every day, dear” – she said in a stronger voice than he thought she could muster today._  
_“But you do” – he replied, ending the discussion._  
_The arras, she was working on now, was exquisite even for her handwork. It was an image of a valley encircled by high mountains covered in the snow. In the valley trees and flowers were blooming in white. His mother stopped her work and looked at him with fondness and sorrow in her eyes. She loved him enough to want him to go, but was still grateful for his presence. A small smile was gracing her lips, a smile, which even reached her eyes for the first time in months._  
_He knew, that Neilina could wait. Not that they shared a stable relationship – far from it truly – with him constantly on the road and her whimsical nature. But, they enjoyed each other's company from time to time for years now._

_His care and devotion granted his mother a few more years to live but she passed away, either way: during a pouring rain at night in Savoine, while he was still away from home. This was particularly hard year for many Aen Seidhe settlements and families, so when he learned on his way to the Blue Mountains, that the community near Vergen needed help, he decided to stay there and help as he could. The settlement was right in the middle of his way from the outskirts of Gulet, where Neilina lived and his mother's house, and the winter was still young._  
_When he came back, all that he found was her statute and grave on which neighbours had already planted ivy. The settlement he grew up in has never felt like home again. He came too late._

 

After two hours of waiting outside the inn, not long after midnight, shouting from the other side of the building woke him up from his own thoughts. He ran there to find a small barrel on fire and Leanan, still naked, looking down with terrified expression from the window. To the window's frame was fastened a white linen bed-sheet. People were running around in a commotion to put out the fire and she was no where to be found. Isengrim instantly realised what had happened.

_She jumped again... And this time she set the fire herself. Fuck!_

They took the horses and galloped back into the forest. Isengrim was raging internally but was more interested in answers, so he kept his face and voice under control.  
“What happened?”  
“Well...” – Leanan looked horrified and his voice was shaking slightly but he continued. – “The moment I entered the inn she looked at me and smiled. When I got to the bar, she sat next to me and ordered a bottle of wine, two glasses and a room. Leaving her seat, she brushed past me and asked quietly, if I wanted to join her in a few minutes. When I got to the room, she had already been sitting in the bathtub and asked me to lock the door. I joined her and started to converse casually, but she quickly hmm…” – a blush and a pause – “occupied her mouth and hmm...” – another pause – “hands otherwise. Soon, we got to the bed. I tried to talk to her and she conversed with me effortlessly. But to tell the truth, she didn't say anything interesting. They are supposedly going to Cidaris, but due to the fact, that after I asked: what for? She straddled me and hmm... Well, let's say that she changed the subject, I doubt if anything she said was true.”  
“I don't need to hear more” – Isengrim interrupted– "just tell me: how did she run away?"  
“She told me to get another bath together, cause she was hmm... sticky” – much more blush was now visible on his face. – “But she wanted to finish her glass of wine first. So I went to the bath and waited for her. Then, I heard screams outside. And the rest you know...”  
“How did she call herself?” – Isengrim continued.  
“Fen. The same as with Coinneach Da Réo” – the younger Seidhe replied.  
Isengrim sighed in resignation.

_How? The second grown and experienced Seidhe fell for the same behaviour the first did (even older and much more experienced). And she is a bloede dh'oine! This is the only established truth about her._

Well, not the only one:  
“Is she really...?” – he heard Gael asking Leanan in a low, barely audible whisper.  
“Her breasts... and bottom... I mean...” – Leanan started in a husky voice but stopped when he realised, that Isengrim was looking at him with a stern, almost angry expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daniel Pemberton „Run Londinium”


	5. Isengrim Imbaelk 1264

ISENGRIM

 

Imbaelk 1264  
evening  
Free City of Novigrad

The guards of the Free City were everywhere. Something was happening near the prison. The same prison, they were to break into and free their comrades.

_What has happened?_

He didn't have time to think. Three guards were nearing the spot, where he was hiding covered by shadows. He looked around... There was no where to go but back. So he tried only to be stopped by a man in fine clothing and a hood. Next to him stood Devlin and Gael, looking at their commander with uncertain eyes.  
“I know who you are” – the man started in a nice, deep voice. – “And the guards know, too. I even say more: they are looking for you, cause it was your men who fled the prison only few hours ago. You cannot hope to leave the city right now. But you can wait. Go to Passiflora, the Madame owes someone a favour. Tell her: 107 degrees. She will know” – with this cryptic remark he turned around and left.

_If he is telling the truth we must follow his instructions. But from the brothel, there is no way out. We will be trapped._

Isengrim didn't have time to ponder, guards were nearing them from both directions, so he quickly ordered his men to follow and took a turn right, left and ascended the stairs to Passiflora. When he opened the door and all three sneaked in, they were immediately greeted by the Madam.  
“What...?” – she started but stopped in the middle of her question, recognising him (or them).  
“107 degrees” – it was Gael, who thought quick enough and used the password. For a second, the Madam was looking at them pensively. But soon she ordered:  
“Follow me” – they went through hidden corridors known only to whores and their Madam to the small room with a bath. She looked at them:  
“Take a bath. I bring you some clothes.”

They did as they were told to. When she came back, she definitely enjoyed the view with a small smirk on her lips. Then, she gave them pants, trousers and shirts, all with exquisite elven lace adornment. They looked like city Seidhe. Well, almost... The Madam led them bare-footed to one of the waiting rooms and when they stood in the doorway, Isengrim couldn't believe his own eyes. A woman. The woman, as he began to call her, was lying on laps of two beautiful Seidhe whores. All three of them were enjoying themselves. She was smoking a pipe, an open bottle of mead stood close to them and the two Seidhe were touching her sensually.

_She is a client. More – a patron – well-known to them. And liked by both of them, judging by the look on their faces. Every whore is smiling when she makes you cum, but these two – they are looking fondly at her._

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft moan. The woman arched, allowing her head to fall back slightly.

_This sound..._

All three male Seidhe in the room looked at each other with mixed feelings written all over their faces and at her again.  
“Fen, I shall pay you for making these sounds. You make clients crazy with nothing but your moans” – the Madam stated, judging their reaction correctly.  
“Sorry, Madam” – Fen answered with a chuckle.  
Isengrim realised, that it was the first time he heard her speak. Her voice was strong, a little bit to high but not unpleasant. At the moment: husky and sweet.  
“We are going to the room. Amrynn wanted to have some fun before she'll be busy with clients” – the woman said with her face now buried in the raven-haired Seidhe's cleavage. The pipe was still in her left hand, held far from all of them with expertise.  
“It's not that. I need a favour” – replied Madam.  
“If I got paid every time I heard it, I would own Novigrad by now” – Fen answered with a chuckle, but she didn't look behind. – “Don't say anything” – she added.  
The auburn haired woman looked at the faces of their companions: the raven-haired and light-brown haired Seidhe. She studied them thoroughly.  
“Well, both of my friends look interested. Amrynn is already lustful, but my dearest Caoimhe is worried. You are accompanied by no ordinary Aen Seidhe, are you, Madam?” – she asked still looking at her two companions. Without a word or a glance in their direction, she went to the window. – “Six guards, two ready to enter “– she evaluated quickly.  
Then, she looked at them. Her expression was blank, maybe a little bit annoyed as she continued:  
“And we cannot use the sewers for at least four hours. Well, girls: now we have a conundrum. How to hide something in plain sight?” – no one uttered a word. – “The first rule – make it look, as if it belonged. Great job at that, Madam” – she bowed slightly in the older woman direction. – “But now, we need to continue the play. Amrynn?” – she looked at brown-haired Seidhe, who got up. – “Caoimhe” – the raven-haired Seidhe stood up, too. – “Are you up for the task in front of you?”  
Both women smiled and nodded. They approached Devlin and Gael and led them out of the waiting room. It was the first time, as the woman looked at him directly:  
“You were chasing me for the last five months and here we are: in a brothel, doomed for each other's company” – she tilted her head smirked mockingly and her eyes were glittering with amusement – “come with me.”

She opened the hidden door on the wall and led him through a corridor. At the end, there was another door. When they got to the room, he started to wonder.

_A hidden, private room? Black and silver, master-size bed, big wardrobes, no windows. Interesting place._

“First time in this room?” – she asked.  
“Yes” – Isengrim answered slowly.  
“Well, there are many rooms in Passiflora and I truly prefer not to know what's inside most of them. But here, it is perfect: heaven and hell, just in the right proportions” – she chuckled lightly. – “Wine?”  
“Please.”  
“Sit down, I'll bring you a glass” – she pointed to an armchair. He sat comfortably and watched her pouring the wine and bringing one glass to him. However, she didn't handle it to him directly but knelt and put it on the floor next to the right armrest.  
He narrowed his eyes and bent to get the glass. When his hand was closing on it he realised, that his right leg was already shackled and the same happened in a second to his right arm. He looked at her surprised, but she just casually stood up. His face was literally in her womanhood after this sudden action.

_The scent... Still lingering after her play-time with two Seidhe prostitutes in the waiting room. Intoxicating, making me almost dizzy with desire. But, no... I cannot... I must keep my right mind._

When he bent back, she grabbed his other hand and shackled it a little bit higher. Then, in a matter of seconds, she took her blouse off – what caught him off guard – only to kneel again and shackle his left leg. After 60 seconds in the room with this woman, he was shackled to a heavy, iron armchair and could not move.

_What the fuck?! How...?_

In nothing but a lace bra and a light trousers, she took her shoes off, went to the cupboard to get her wine and with a curious smile she sat down on the bed.  
“No anthill, I swear” – she mocked him with laughter – “but... Well, I have my own ways” – she added with a dark smile and looked at the wardrobe.  
After a few minutes of silence, her glass of wine was finished. Then, she approached casually the wardrobe and got out an elegant, black whip.

_How painful can it be? Well, come on, some do it for pleasure._

“Some do it for pleasure but I don't think, that you are this kind of man, Mr. Reynard“ – she glanced at him pointedly. – “But then again, either by pleasure or by pain I do not wish to make you answer my questions. I want to send a simple message: never look a gift horse in the mouth. Are we on the same page?” – she continued. – “I would call our relation as... cautious trust. Would you agree?”  
At this point – he was lost. He tried to come up with a coherent answer to the question he hadn't seen coming. In the slightest.

Then, the sound of the whip colliding with his own skin made him draw air with surprise. She was in front of him, opening his shirt and tucking its sleeves. The place, where she hit him: on the top of his palm, was already red. When he looked at it, she aimed for his cheek – from below, making sure that nothing can happen to his eye.  
“Wha...?” – the second hit cut his word in the middle and made him loudly draw air, again.  
“Would you agree?” – she repeated the question with a smile on her lips and shimmering light of candles in her eyes.

_Not green._

The third hit got to his chest and a tattoo.  
“I wanted to see this tattoo for a while now” – she murmured and her voice became different: curious and slightly lustful.  
“It's only half of it” – Isengrim answered slowly coming back to his senses.  
“I see” – she replied and hit again, this time his neck just below the ear.  
He didn't make a sound but looked in her eyess.

_These eyes... Blue and grey like a sky in the summer afternoon, just before a storm._

“Would you answer my question?” – she asked a little bit bored. With no hit. Not yet, but her hand remained in the air.  
“Yes. Agreed” – she smiled at him after his answer. Genuinely?

_Do I care? It's her game, so I might as well play along. For answers, not to please myself, obviously. She is as a dh'oine, isn't she? A filthy, ugly, lesser being..._  
_Who am I trying to persuade? Her breasts in the lace bra are exactly as I heard – tempting, full and beautiful. Her hips and waist are perfectly shaped with the curves graceful and worthy of a sin. The tender place – just above her hipbone - visible, with a pale, flawless skin covering it. And the bottom, even still dressed in her trousers, looks as made for... Well..._

He already felt his desire building up almost painfully.  
She knelt in front of him again and said:  
“Since you are already shackled, let me show you how to get away” – he stared at her with wide eyes, caught off guard, again.  
But she didn't care at all. She took his left hand, freed it from the shackles and put it to the shackle on his right hand. His movements were blocked by the armrest and his hands in the position similar to those of prisoners. She went to the wardrobe again and came with a goose feather.  
“This is enough to get out” – she instructed, putting the feather in his right palm.  
Her facial expression was now reminding more a mentor, a teacher than a dominatrix she was just a few seconds ago. Then, she sat down on the bed with another glass of wine and waited.  
“And by the way, Arlen and Faolan will be waiting for you at the old campsite. We got them out this afternoon” – she stated, looked at him pointedly and smirked at his shocked expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Citizen Cope „107°”


	6. Fen Imbaelk 1264

FEN

 

Imbaelk 1264  
two hours before midnight  
the Passiflora  
Free City of Novigrad

She was watching him, while he was fighting an unequal fight with the handcuffs.

_Good. He didn't laugh, didn't defy me. He is willing to accept this little arrangement. And judging by the way he looks, even eager for more than I originally bargained for._

She smiled to her own thoughts. Already in Dorian, as she saw him for the first time, he picked up her interest. It was something in his demeanour: calm but demanding and constantly aware of his surroundings; careful but not paranoic. And his hair: not too long, dark brown with delicate waves... Hair many dh'oine women would kill for. However, they were in contrast to his strong features, clear-build jaw bones and high cheekbones. And there was something in his ebony, almost black eyes with pitch-black and surprisingly long eyelashes. He wasn't her type in the slightest but something in him made her heartbeat faster and her blood pressure higher. She wanted him – the mare thought causing a small, crimson blush to creep on her cheeks – and that was unexpected, but maybe she should have foreseen it?

 

_the night of Belleteyn 1258_  
_Ban Gleán_  
_Kaedwen_

_The celebrations of the Belleteyn night organised by Aen Seidhe were the fieriest nights of the year. And she just reached the time in her life when she understood much more about the nature of these celebrations. This year, for the first time in her life, she would celebrate the night to the fullest under the clear night sky, watched by countless stars and the cold light of the moon._  
_“Come here, luned!” – Tallula called her to the group of female Seidhe sitting on a bench next to the bonfire. – “These are my friends: Leslie and Muire.”_  
_“Ceád'mil” – she greeted them and they answered in kind._  
_She looked curiously at two extraordinarily beautiful women: one – with light auburn hair and piercing green eyes and the other – with ebony hair and eyes hidden in the shadow of her bangs. Both Seidhe seemed pleasant enough and greeted her nicely. She was dressed in elven style, hid her ears under a bandanna and, obviously, she spoke Hen Llinge fluently. With a little bit of luck, they wouldn't recognise her as a dh'oine and Tallula would never give her up._  
_The conversation was light and merry. They were all Seidhe living in towns and cities, maybe not rich but not going hungry either. Everything seemed to be as always for the participants of the celebrations. There were food, drink and a lot of dancing. She was whirling with her friends and random male Seidhe for hours. Until, spent, she sat down next to Leslie and Muire._  
_“Who is your choice for tonight?” – Muire asked her in typical, shameless way Aen Seidhe talk about sex._  
_“Blond, almost silver hair and sapphire eyes. He sits on the other side of the bonfire” – she answered the same way._  
_“You have good taste, luned” – Leslie approved. – “His name is Nealon. One night with him means more pleasure than most dh'oine get in a lifetime. And he is interested in you, too” – Leslie continued. – “But, I would advise you not to go with him” – the Seidhe added with a mysterious smile._  
_“And why is that?” – she inquired._  
_“It's the unexpected, what brings the most joy, freedom and pleasure. If you want to have the night of your life don't play safe” – was Muire's answer._  
_She decided to test the theory. She spent some time alone on the bed of grass with Nealon first. Then, she went back to the bonfire, but before she sat, raven-haired Seidhe with lilac eyes caught her hand and took her to the improvised dancefloor. They danced at the bonfire first, but then quickly disappeared into the forest. They made love on the meadow with young poppy flowers blooming everywhere._  
_Leslie and Muire were right. She would never choose him, but the accidental meeting and surprising desire the raven-haired Seidhe woke up in her - was stronger than anything she had felt in her life. And she didn't even ask his name. Well..._

 

Coming back from her fond memories she realised, that the man in front of her was already unlocking the last lock in the shackle around his left leg.  
“Congratulations” – she said with a little bit of irony. – “Just, if you were shackled and about to be executed, remember to ask for a glass of water” – she smirked.  
“And why, pray tell me?” – he asked, standing up.  
“It will give you extra time, maybe just enough to get out. Haven't you heard the story of Ulfric Stormcloak?” – she replied seriously and smiled warmly at the memory of the meeting with the man who taught her that among great many other things. Uncle Vesemir (though, obviously, she was not the only one who called him like that and he was not her uncle...).  
Isengrim vel Mr. Reynard got already closer to the edge of the bed. She looked in his eyes and realised, that he wanted the same. Slowly, she moved to the middle of the bed and started to undo her trousers. He took off his shirt and trousers and just in his pants, he knelt in front of her and helped her with removing rest of her clothing. Both quite eager to move on, they were naked in a matter of seconds and he brought his lips and tongue to her most sensitive spot. Immediately, she arched to him and moaned.  
It was when she was on the edge, her vision already blurred, as she touched his cheek and said:  
“Come up here. I want to feel you inside me. Now” – her last word was an order more than a plea.  
To say, that he looked up at her with surprise would be an understatement of the year, but he obliged more than happily. After just a few movements they shared together, the sounds of their pleasure was the only thing they could think of. Soon after, it was her turn to be surprised. When he released her from the weight of his body, he didn't lay beside her but knelt again and kissed every inch of her breasts, belly and tights. His gentle and caring action left her more breathless than the strong climax she experienced just a few minutes ago.

_Why is he so caring? What is he playing at?_

To stop whatever plan he had in mind, she sat up and kissed him violently on the lips. With her eyes opened, she moved closer and knelt in front of him. Then, she broke the kiss and wrapped her hand around him with a playful smirk. But this gesture was unnecessary – he was ready for another round. So she turned around and lowered the upper part of her body on elbows, so her head was touching the pillows in front of her. He didn't think twice before entering her once again in this new angle – one of the most pleasurable angles for the woman. Her body reacted instantly and she moaned quietly. In this position, they took their time, their movements were lazy and relaxed. He waited for a long time, before he put his fingers on her womanhood and started to draw little circles and lines, what was answered with her appreciating moans.  
After long minutes, when she felt herself on the edge again, he used his other arm to lift her upper body up to him. But she started to think again.

_Another surprise. It's not just sex you're after, it's intimacy... You're more complicated man than I would ever anticipated._

But soon, they reached their peaks again. Together. This time, she collapsed on the bed and he was touching and kissing her back leisurely: making her shiver, making her wait in anticipation. She couldn't deny – she loved it and would beg him not to stop if he tried.

_So.. this is what you want. To fuck some answers out of me with promise and pleasure. By giving freely and then taking it away..._

She was waiting for him to speak, to ask questions, to do anything suspicious - but he didn't. He was simply enjoying her body: its secret paths, curves and hidden spots. After a while, she turned around to face him. He was watching her intently with a gentle, fond smile on his lips. She wanted to speak, but dared not – she knew, that she was melting under his touch and this was too dangerous. And seeing his smile, she understood, that she could do or say too much. So she pushed him gently and moved for her glass of wine, which she left on the floor next to the bed. But she didn't come back to him, instead, she sat on the table and looked at him again. They spent some time not speaking at all, both too afraid to break the comfortable silence.  
“We should get some sleep. Getting you out of here tomorrow won't be a piece of lembas” – she said in the end and started to put her lingerie back on.  
“Agreed” – he replied looking for his pants.  
Once dressed in at least some clothing, she went back to the bed and laid next to him. This time he didn't touch her at once, it was her who put her head on his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcin Przybyłowicz, Mikołaj Stroiński „Aen Seidhe”


	7. Isengrim Imbaelk 1264

ISENGRIM

 

Imbaelk 1264  
the next day at dawn  
Free City of Novigrad

A light knock and the voice of the Madam woke him up from a dream. A very good dream with a naked woman lying on the top of him. When he opened his eyes he realised, that at least part of it wasn't a dream. There she was – sleeping serenely, lying even closer than as they went to sleep.

_I can get used to it. What...? I am losing my mind... How a one-night-stand turned into this thought? I don't even want to know. Her eyes... Most women – Aen Seidhe and dh'oine alike – have this warm light glistening in their eyes when they come. But not her – the light I saw in her eyes was cold as winter sun-rays reflected in the snow._

To stop this dangerous line of thinking, he moved gently and felt she was waking up, as well. When she opened her eyes, the first expression on her face was confusion. But she gathered herself quickly and got up. Only as she was standing, she said lightly:  
“Ceád'mil.”  
“Ceád'mil” – he answered still from the bed with an unsure smile.  
She opened the door and bent for the clothing the Madam left for him. It was washed and neatly sorted. She gave him his clothes and opened the wardrobe to get out her own travelling attire. He realised, that even some of the holes in his jacket were repaired. When he turned around, she had a sheathed sword in her hand and was extending it to him.  
“Take it. We are going through the sewers and I'll need one more hand with a silver.”  
“Thank you” – he replied and took the sword simultaneously unsheathing it. It was marvellous and had a name engraved in old runes: “toirneach”.

_Thunder... interesting..._

He knew, that he should ask her how she acquired it. It would say more about her than he has learned in the last five months pursuing her. He should have asked anything then, but he didn't. Instead, he said in a warm voice:  
“Eryr...”  
“What?” – she asked him with surprise in her voice. – “What do you mean?”  
“You... Looking at you now, I know how I'll remember you: Eryr.”  
“Do I look like an eagle to you?” – she mocked him but continued: – “Better pet-name than many, I guess. I like it” – and she grinned. – “But now I think, that you feel like a prey here. Eagles can be trained to hunt wolfs, did you know?” – she chuckled – “But I can assure you, that whatever harm would come from this” – she gestured herself and him – “would be entirely your doing. You are a complex man, Is...”

_And here she is. In a matter of minutes going from hot to cold and back again. Fire and Ice... I am doomed. Now, hearing the short version of my real name used only by the closest friends and family, spoken by her with such an ease only added to the feeling of uncertainty. Intimacy... this night couldn't end worse._

But it could.

Deep in their thoughts, they went together to the empty kitchen and prepared a meal for seven in silence. Their swords and bows were bent on the wall, entangled in a way, which looked like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like they were made to fit. Fortunately, soon, they were joined by relaxed and pleased Caoimhe and Gael, followed closely by Amrynn and Devlin. He was almost certain, that they didn't leave yesterday in those pairs – they shared, obviously. And for the first time in his life he knew, that he was already too possessive over this woman to even consider it. The most natural thing for any Aen Seidhe: free love, liberated passion - seemed utterly impossible in this case.

_How did it happen?_

After breakfast to which they were joined by the Madam, it was Eryr, who gave an order to leave. There was an entrance to the sewers in baths, which now were, thankfully, empty. Once inside, she took a torch and lighted it.  
“If you use these tunnels again remember to follow flowers on the walls. One way or another, they will lead you out to the docks” – she said and put the torch to the wall revealing small, engraved in the brick image of a poppy and then, after a dozen steps, another flower: a tulip.  
They walked in total silence until they heard sounds coming from in front of them.  
“Drowners. The silver for monsters” – their guide, Eryr, whispered with a dark chuckle. She drew her sword and he did the same, followed by his men. They killed all five with ease, but then, she started to sniff the air. Her expression changed:  
“Water hag. She is dangerous. Be careful” – she instructed and moved forward.  
This fight was not easy, but Isengrim and Eryr moved in the fight as if they read each other's minds. The monster was dead, soon, and they moved to the exit of the sewers. Once outside, Isengrim and his men were watching out but Eryr was looking for a boat – sailing boat to be exact. When she found one not too far away, she motioned them to follow her and to get on board. Then, with a swift movement she unfastened the hawser and pushed the boat gently to the mainstream. While the boat was slowly drifting, she went to the mast and hoisted the sail with quick, experienced movements. In a few minutes, she was sitting with a traveller line in her right hand and a tiller in her left. Sailing seemed to be her second nature and they moved fast up the river and beyond city gates, not disturbed by anyone.

_The guards must have thought, that we are fishermen sailing to earn the living. This is how natural she looks sailing._

Once they got ashore, she ordered Devlin to jump to the shallow waters with a rope in his hand. Gael left later. She looked at Isengrim with mixed feelings displayed on her face. When he started to undo the belt with a silver sword she had given him, she touched his hand to stop him:  
“Take it. In the woods, you need it more than I need a spare. Good luck” – she said squeezing his hand, but not moving closer. – “Va fail!”  
He looked her in the eyes again, but stood up, turned around and jumped out of the boat. As he turned to face her, he only said:  
“Va fail, Eryr...” – then he gave the order to Devlin – “let go of the rope.”  
The sail-boat turned around and disappeared quickly on her way back to the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chopin „Nocturne Op. 72, No. 19 in E minor”


	8. Iorveth Lammas 1268

IORVETH

 

Lammas 1268  
Dillingen  
Brugge

He was watching Nilfgaardian officers putting a rope around the boy's hands and neck.

_Scoia'tael way to escort prisoners._

Only one Nilfgaardian officer cared enough to stand up, to speak up – barely twenty-one years old Galel Najwa aep Askari. Although, he was not even Nilfgaardian, but Vicovarian... The whole scene was one of the moments in his short-to-be life,which he would remember to whatever end. When their sad procession got to the warehouse, the death squad was already waiting for them along with Temerian soldiers and, to his surprise, Temerian general – Jon Natalis.

_Good and honourable man... Maybe once, but no longer. Did we do it to them? Why do I care? A good dh'oine is a dead dh'oine. General or beggar, what is the difference?_

Shackles were ringing while they entered the building. The terrible sound of coming death. Then, he and other officers were made to stand by the wall. 

_And it all comes to an end. We are not going to die proud with weapons in our hands. No... we will be humiliated first, probably tortured and shot? Hanged? Probably the latter. Do you feel better about yourselves bloede dh'oine?_

The scene was still fresh in his mind:  
“But, they are officers of the Nilfgaardian Army! They must receive fair trials!” - Galel exclaimed.  
“They did and they were sentenced to death. The executions will take place in Drakenborg as soon as we get there” – Jon Natalis replied stoically.  
“I demand to speak to judges who passed sentences” – stated Galel Najwa aep Askari.  
This time no one spoke a word, but Hamilcar Danza – boy's commanding officer - punched him in the stomach. The young man yelped in surprise, fell to the ground but stood up.  
“Did you get the message?” – Danza asked.  
“No” – was the reply.  
He was punched and kicked again, and again a few times but in the end he always stood up.  
“Are you ready to go home, officer?” – Danza inquired mockingly.  
“I'm not leaving them” – was the boy's reply.  
It was followed by dead silence. Danza punched him in the face and threatened when the boy fell again:  
“Stay on your knees or I will degrade you and leave you here for the same fate as theirs. For insubordination.”  
But Galel got up and was standing tall and proud in open defiance.

_Seasamh fear... Standing man..._

“You sealed your own fate” – was what the commanding officer said. – “Can you execute him with the rest? I'll write the sentence myself... Just kill him with the others: it's what he wanted, after all” – it was a question to Jon Natalis, who nodded slowly with a grim face.

_Oh, boy... Do something like that again and I may believe, that there are other dh'oine like my dear sor'ca. And I would actually care whom I killed. But maybe I shouldn't. After all, I was blinded by her. too. She deceived us all. Sor'ca... who were you?_


	9. Iorveth Birke 1265

IORVETH

 

Birke 1265  
woods near Densele  
Redania

“Luned!” – his angry voice bellowed in the forest. – “Who do you think you are? And what do you think you're doing here?”  
“Well, let's see... I'm the princess of Aedrin and I stroll in the forest for pleasure, looking for fucking unicorns? Why do you ask?” – her answer was mocking and cold as ice.  
They stood in front of each other, while their men: Scoia'tael and the Riders, were taking everything, what could be useful from the camp of knights of the Order of the Flaming Rose. At the time, when their men were working together peacefully, the two commanders were both raging and ready to kill each other with nothing but a glare. When he moved towards her, she reacted quicker and kicked him, so that he lost his balance and fell to her feet. He got up even angrier but she had her swords already in her hands. Hadn't he witnessed just minutes ago what she could do with them, he probably would charge at her with his own. But he saw her in action and wouldn't risk a pointless fight, which he may actually lose.

_We were surrounded when the Riders... Farchogion – this even doesn't sound bad – came to our aid. My commando had small chances of survival, we simply didn't have numbers for this fight, which started after we got into a trap. Then, from the forest, a group of ten armed riders came and attacked the knights from behind. They literally fucked them in the arses and now they all lay dead. Most impressive – that is for sure._

Internally, he was grateful. Still, he was cautious as well: no one helps Scoia'tael out of the goodness of their hearts, right? He looked at the young woman in front of him. She was still very young but somehow he knew, that she was their leader. Her medium-cut auburn hair and cold eyes made her not unpleasant to look upon. Her figure was nice and slander, while her clothing tasteful enough for a travelling attire. Here and there her clothes were covered in dh'oine blood. All in all, she was more than pleasing to look at.

 _Like a fresh breeze from the sea on a hot summer day – cool, but pleasing and desired. Gynvael... I wonder: how does she taste like?_  
_I must get laid... If I'm thinking that about this dh'oine, a fucking dh'oine, I'm getting out of control... Ciaran or Tyne? Or maybe I can get all three of us together at last?_

He glimpsed at the girl again, who was looking at him curiously with a teasing smile emerging on her lips. And despite his better judgement, despite all rational thinking from a while ago, he did exactly the opposite:  
“We are heading to the Prancing Pony Inn for the night” – he stated. – “Do you want to come?”  
“This was our destination, as well” – she answered without a moment of hesitation.  
She got on her blood-bay horse and gave a short command:  
“Adhart!”  
He was riding on his pitch-black stallion a little bit behind her and to her right, so that he could align with her at any time. But he did not. Instead, he was deep in his own thoughts.

_Interesting little thing... I should interrogate her first, but maybe it can wait until the morning light?_

Soon, they arrived at the Inn. They all dismounted and got inside with the mysterious woman at the head. As he noticed, she knew the customs here well. She headed first to the counter and greeted the innkeeper, handing him her weapons, all despite two knives: one – hidden in her belt and other – on the stripe just above her ankle. Then, she ordered:  
“Rooms and beds for everyone. And a bath, soon, please... I stink of old blood. For now, beer and supper, whatever you are serving tonight” – the innkeeper smiled and nodded. Then, she went to the table in the centre of the room and sat down. Her men sat at the table close to the one she chose, but not with her.

_This is a sign of respect, no doubts about that. But more importantly – they anticipated, that I would want to speak to her alone. Is this a sign of respect towards me as well?_

But for their company, the Inn was empty – Seamus was informed, that a commando will stay the night and decided to close the Inn. Maybe for the best. Especially, after the last time as Riordain's commando was here and after a fight with locals, all participants were banned from the place for a year. For the locals it made no difference but for the Scoia'tael... sometimes having a safe roof above their heads meant the difference between life and death.  
“Iorveth, you old fox!” – Seamus greeted him warmly – “Long time not seen!”  
“Seamus” – he replied – “you must change your name, my friend, I still cannot pronounce it correctly...” – he joked.  
Both of them chuckled. When the Seidhe got to the counter he handed the innkeeper a small sack of silver, but the dh'oine refused:  
“Already paid. Don't worry, go and sit. I'll bring you food” – when he saw Iorveth's raised eyebrows he motioned with his head to the woman, who was sitting now comfortably at the table. – “It's not the first time I see her escorting commando or lost Seidhe here. I don't know who she is, but we here call them Forest Ghosts. Mostly because even the Scoia'tael don't know where they came from and where are they heading to when they leave. But they always leave doing no harm... to your brethren” – he added after a while. – “Don't pick a fight with her, fraere. Never look a gift horse in the mouth...” – Seamus looked pointedly at him and after long minutes, Iorveth nodded. After all, he didn't plan to pick any fight till tomorrow and they may do it on the road outside the Inn, as well.

Finishing their conversation, Iorveth went to the woman and sat at the opposite side of the table. She looked at him with no signs of anxiousness or fear.  
“What is your name, luned?” – he started.  
“What do you wish it to be, fraere?” – she asked with a cocky smile. Not only did she dodge his question, but also she called him “fraere” - something, that only a Seidhe could call another Seidhe.  
“You like breaking rules, don't you?”  
“I didn't set them nor did I agree to them. I neither observe them nor recognise them as rules for me. Still, it pains me greatly, that even after saving your life and lives of your men you believe, that I'm not worthy of calling you like that” – she answered with irony.  
Her words made him ponder. She was right.  
“All right, sor'ca. Say, that I agree with you. But you are a hypocrite, too, don't you think? By not revealing your name, you are setting rules which you want me to follow. You want me to play your game” – he stated seriously and saw her approving smile.  
“This is true. But I'm afraid, that I'm leaving you no other option. And I like this game: the name you'll choose to refer to me will speak volumes about yourself and nothing about me” – she said matter-of-factly.

He wondered again.

_You are right and I already have a name for you: Gynvael... Ice._

“So, this is what you want: to get to know me, while reviling nothing about yourself?”  
“Yes. Let's play Gwent for that. If you win – I'll answer your three questions, if I win – you'll answer mine. Deal?” – he knew, that she was playing him, but he still agreed:  
“OK. Let's play.”  
His men, who were watching their interaction, smirked. Their commander didn't lose a Gwent game since they've met him. For years. The decks were set and the game began. The Scoia'tael and the Riders were watching intently, but no one dared to come to their table. The challenge was personal, almost intimate and the commanders were to settled it privately. After the second round, it was a draw. The last round was to decide about the winner. The suspense was almost visible and with the last cards in hands of the contesters, Iorveth was already smiling. There was a small chance, that he would lose. He put his last card on the table and looked at the girl victoriously.  
“Every game is about foresight” – she said – “about playing your card just after your opponent played theirs.”  
And with these final words she put her card on the table and changed the scores to her favour. Iorveth looked impressed and shocked at the same time: for the first time in years he lost a game and to a dh'oine girl... The atmosphere in the Inn became thick and tensed, but Iorveth said:  
“Congratulations” – in an angry, but ready to accept the defeat, voice.  
“Are you ready to open up?” – she teased him.  
“This was the deal we've made and I never go back on my word.”  
“How do you wish to call me?” – she inquired.  
He was silent for a while, staring in this cold, piercing eyes and thinking.  
“Gynvael...” – he said after a while.  
“Wow. This is something new” – she teased him further. – “And everyone I know is telling me, that I'm hot-headed. So this is what you would want from me: tragic, unfulfilled love affair?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lindsey Stirling „Underground”


	10. Fen Birke 1265

FEN

 

Birke 1265  
evening  
the Prancing Pony Inn  
the road to Densele  
Redania

She looked the Seidhe in front of her deep in the eyes. This impossibly green eyes, which seem to look just through her. She felt naked under his gaze. She could want him, even more, she actually wanted him but knew better.

_He is a dangerous man. I can feel how similar we are and this would never end well._

“My name is Fen, Iorveth. And I do not wish to play any game with you. Indeed, I believe, that we have much more in common than I anticipated and I refuse to waste it on a tragic love affair we both think we want. But in reality, we just chose not to connect to other people, what makes us shallow and empty but extremely efficient in getting what we desire” – she smiled a sad smile at him and observed his reaction.  
His face went from narrow eyes and expression of defiance to understanding and a grin, which made his predatory features even more beautiful and much more dangerous. After a while he asked:  
“You suggest friendship, don't you? But what with benefits?”  
“No benefits, fraere, but my charming company and fascinating conversational skills” – she answered with sarcasm.  
“I'm almost certain, that I'm making the worst decision in my entire life but agreed. Let's keep our relation platonic, though I want to warn you, as a friend, you're missing the best sex of your life” – he stated, smiling widely.  
“I know. But I would rather not miss a person I can actually be myself around than the hypothetical night of my life” – they both laughed at that.  
Her men and his commando were already comfortable around each other. It took only an hour for them to mingle, laugh and talk with ease. This was the shortest time in which a commando accepted them and their mysterious presence. It spoke volumes about their commanders again: they were similar, thus, their men had much in common, too. She was conversing with Iorveth about trivia: their travels and stories of their fights. They had dinner together, talked and ate comfortably.

Suddenly, the door opened and all of them got to their feet with daggers and knives in hands. The Riders stood arm-to-arm with the Scoia'tael. They were hoping, that whoever is coming through this door can be persuaded by one or the other group not to a pick fight. At least this time, their prayers were answered. Four Scoia'tael entered the Inn and as the last came no other but Isengrim Faoiltiarna. The newcomers were greeted enthusiastically by Iorveth's comrades, while Fen decided to stay out of the sight. Seeing him again made her feel a little bit uneasy.  
“Iorveth! We heard you are dead! One an'givare told us, that the Order of the Flaming Rose is planning a trap for you. I was sure, that we would come too late. And we did. We found piles of dead Knights, more than four dozens. How did you survive it?” – she heard Isengrim's voice.  
But it was different than the voice he used while speaking to her. This man was a born leader – experienced, demanding and caring for his people. From the way he spoke she understood at once, that for him Iorveth is like a younger brother.  
“Well. We are incredible, fraere. Never doubt that!” – Iorveth laughed at Isengrim's stern expression. – “But to tell the truth, we...” – he didn't finish. It was Seamus, who interrupted him:  
“Sor'ca. Your bath is ready upstairs.”  
Isengrim looked in surprise at the innkeeper and in the direction he spoke. She was still sitting casually at the table, alone after Iorveth left to greet the newcomers. She looked at his face: his expressions were changing from surprise to anxiety to a genuine smile. At the same time, the Seidhe, who came with him were already deep in conversation with her Riders and she realised, that two of them were the prisoners they saved in Novigrad not even half a year ago.  
“They are with us, Is” – Iorveth broke the silence. –“They are the main reason why we are still alive. May I introduce...”  
But he was interrupted by Isengrim:  
“No need fraere, we've met” – he said calmly and approached her slowly, but with utter surety. Iorveth's face displayed confusion. Most of the talks died out.  
When the older Seidhe stood in front of her at the other side of the table, he smiled playfully and asked:  
“Which room?”  
To say, that she looked confused for a while was an understatement. But the pure shock on Iorveth's face was precious. She was thinking for a while.

_Yes? No? Oh... fuck it. So presumptuous..._

She wanted to mock him but Isengrim was already ascending the stairs. He knew the answer or believed he knows it. She stood up probably blushing, so she turned around as soon as possible not to face her men or Iorveth and followed. When she disappeared on the first floor, she heard some grunts and Iorveth's voice:  
“What the fuck was that?”  
“They know each other. Well. Maybe not well, but...” – Arlen, one of the Seidhe who came with Isengrim, stated. – “Never mind. Let's go back to drinking.”

Isengrim was waiting for her in a corridor on the first floor.  
“Second door to your left” – she said casually – “but I have the keys.”  
He moved closer to the door she mentioned. When she stood near him, he didn't say or ask anything. He stood in front of her, causing her to slightly turn and take a step back to the wall. Then, he leaned in and cupped her face with his hands. She looked in his dark eyes and lifted her own hand to his collar to bring his lips to hers. Within seconds, he grabbed her by the bottom and lifted her up, pushing her to the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned in closer to his body. He separated from her only to gasp:  
“Keys...”  
She fished them out of her pocket, turned slightly around to open the door and grabbed the handle. When the door swung open, he moved them both inside and closed the door with a kick. The bath was in a small bathroom separated from the main room only by the arc. He let her go only to allow them to take clothes off. But she never took off her necklace. In the bath, they sat on opposite sides facing each other. For a moment she thought, that he wanted to speak. For a moment she wanted to say something, too. But they both decided otherwise in the end. She got to her knees and put her hands on his chest and neck.  
For the first time, she actually had time and mind to look closer at his tattoo. The tree-trunk was situated on the side of his belly and chest, leafless branches were covering his stomach, chest and back. The tree seemed elegant and strong but lifeless. He caught her eyes with a question in his. She hesitated but asked:  
“Winter or spring?”  
“Dream of spring...”  
“Will it come true?” – she continued.  
“Do they ever?” – he replied.  
“No, they don't. They change into nightmares to haunt you” – this answer was too depressive even for the Seidhe sitting in front of her. Confusion, sadness and something else were visible on his face. Determination? Care?

_Don't be stupid, Is... People like us, we don't care for a person, who was no more than a one-night-stand, do we?_

She wanted none of it. She neared to him, kissed him and pushed her right hand under the water while her left hand moved to the side of the bath. And again her sudden action caught him off guard but he didn't object to her ministrations. On the contrary, he used his right hand to touch her tights and womanhood. Then, he pushed his index finger inside her, which made her gasp but her body was more than ready for him. He used his palm and thumb to stimulate her clitoris and pushed the second finger in. She smiled and looked at him from beneath half-lowered eyelids. Her pupils were dilated, pressure elevated and a crimson blush crept on her cheeks. She calculated quickly, but decided against staying in the bathtub – it was too small. So she whispered:  
“Table?”  
“Table” – he agreed with a playful grin.  
She stood up and he followed, lifting her wet body and manoeuvred them both to the main part of the room, where in the corner stood the table. He lowered her gently on its edge and she already lifted her legs, so that her knees were at the level of his chest and her toes were resting on the table's edge. But he had a better plan. Leaning them both down, until her back ended flat on the table, he lifted both of her legs by her ankles and put them on his shoulders. Then, he stood straight. She smiled at this action and spread her tights as far as she could in this position. He took it as an invitation and entered her.  
“And here I thought, that it's impossible to be tighter than the last time...” – he whispered.  
“I've heard that already” – she answered with a chuckle looking teasingly in his eyes.  
His grin was the only answer she got. Soon, his fingers were on her again and she came just a minute before him. Her cliamx made her arc on the table, moving even closer to his groins. She moaned loudly and sucked for air. This was followed by his deep groan.

He held her in this position, kissing her feet and legs. Then, he removed her legs and leaned to her again. But just before he kissed her their eyes met and he stopped in his tracks.

_Fuck! What did he see? Why does he look so warm, gentle? I don't even know how to call it..._

They didn't kiss. She moved to the side and stood on her feet next to him, not looking at him. Then, she moved to her clothes:  
“I need the alcohol” – she stated. – “Want some too?”  
He was still standing naked with his back to her.  
“No” – he replied turning around – “I will go. Last time you brought me the alcohol I ended up shackled, remember?” – he chuckled, seemingly joking, but something was bothering him. She could say.  
“Fondly” – she answered coldly, but with a wide smile on her face – “Beer, please” – she added.  
Then, she went to the bed and from under the covers, she watched him as he dressed up and left. Only after he was gone, she closed her eyes and started to breath normally again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurts ft. Kylie Minogue „Devotion”


	11. Isengrim Birke 1265

ISENGRIM

 

Birke 1265  
late evening  
the Prancing Pony Inn  
the road to Densele  
Redania

Once downstairs, he ordered two mugs of beer from Seamus and sat for a while with Iorveth to steal some of his food. As he suspected, Iorveth was observing him for a long while before he asked:  
“Who is she?”  
“I don't know, Iorveth.”  
The younger Seidhe was thinking for a long time, again, before he continued asking:  
“Did you think about that before you fucked her?”  
“Yes.”  
“And after?”  
“I didn't lose my mind, fraere” – Isengrim said calmly.  
“Are you sure?” – Iorveth asked with raised eyebrows.  
“You are scolding me, aren't you? Tell me, didn't it even cross your mind? Coming here with them, sitting here together: just you and her. Didn't you plan to do it yourself?”  
“Have you seen her? OK. Stupid question” – Iorveth smirked. – “Yes, I did. But, then, you would scold me and you would clean up my mess. It's what you do. And you would find her out to interrogate her, including an anthill, if necessary” – the younger Seidhe said matter-of-factly. – “But now? You know, Seamus said, that they are helping commandos, that we are not the first to be led here by her, to safety, but... Why? How? There are still so many issues to be addressed and who would decide, what to do with her now? Coinneach? He would not only scold us, but also spank us... Hard.”  
“He wouldn't.”  
“Why?” – Iorveth inquired curiously.  
“He... They...” – Isengrim said in a strange voice, averting his friend's eyes and trailed off.  
“Wow! I haven't seen that coming. I'm not sure which surprised me more: Coinneach falling for a dh'oine girl or you fucking his woman.”  
“She left him. When I learned, from him by the way, about them I started to track her and her men. We met sometime later and...”  
“So you chased his woman before you actually fucked her” – stated Iorveth matter-of-factly. – “This is rich... Does he know? Is he in the mood to share?” – he continued and chuckled.  
“No, we haven't spoken since” – Isengrim shook his head. – “Did she... did she flirted with you?”  
“Jealous? You, Isengrim Faoiltiarna, who has never even heard the word faithful and deemed it so much not Aen Seidhe, that he could puke, now jealous? What can she do, hmm? Is she... flexible?” – he gave Iorveth a dangerous glance but the other Seidhe didn't care too much. – “Because with every minute of this conversation I'm regretting more and more what I agreed to...”  
“And what is it?”  
“Friendship. With no benefits. I'm a loser” – at that Isengrim smiled and said:  
“Thank you, fraere.”  
“Don't thank me – thank her, it was her stupid idea...”  
They both laughed and changed the subject. Isengrim was conversing with friends for a while after but his thoughts were whirling around the slender dh'oine he left upstairs.

_One step ahead and two steps back..._

Soon, he was opening the door to their room again. She was sitting in their bed, looking through the window. When he came, she extended her hand and took the mug. They were drinking in total silence for a while. Then, he decided to break it, every minute of it making him more convinced, that she is slipping through his fingers like water:  
“How did you know, that Iorveth is in trouble?”  
“We didn't. It was a coincidence, that we were in the right place at the right time.”  
“Is there anything, that we actually can talk about without evading?”  
“What do you think of the beer here?”  
“It's good” – he said with a sigh.

_Well... this was rich. At least this time you used your mouth to speak something, not to distract me otherwise. Still... Beer... What a deep, personal conversation..._

“Did you know, that Seamus is brewing it with some of his colleagues? And it is no ordinary lager, but an ale, one of the rare ones. The composition of malt is quite unique, in other words – this beer is probably unlike any other. And I don't believe, that Seamus even realised, that he is brewing a completely new type of beer and a very good one, too. Even by one look at the colour, you can see: it's red, the colour not achieved by any other brewer without adding fruits or juices. Its taste is incredible too, you may have many after but you will always come back to it with delight.”

_What the...? Is this a symbolic conversation? Are you trying to tell me something more, not saying it directly? I hate it..._

“You seem to know a lot about it” – he stated, not sure if he should try to go deeper.  
“I travel a lot” – she answered and looked at him. She put her mug on the floor and gestured to him, saying:  
“Come to bed” – he realised, that he asked too much even if he hadn't asked enough to actually learn anything about her. Every time he was too close to any shred of information, she changed the subject to sex.

_At least not some symbolic conversation... Shall I agree? Will it ever change? A second ago I was glad, that she spoke. Now, I'm glad, that she stopped. What do I want from her? Why is she making it so difficult?_

His thoughts were going from one extreme to the other, but his body was more than decided. He left his mug on the table and got to her, still fully clothed. She already emerged, still naked, from under the cover and knelt at the edge of the bed. She tilted her head up to kiss him and wrapped her arms around his waist. There was something incredibly dirty in this simple act. He pushed her gently on the bed, grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to the bed's edge. Then he knelt, nearing his face to her spread tights. She was still not fully lying, with her back resting on her elbows. Their eyes locked again, but this strange emotion, which he saw the last time, was gone from her face, replaced by pure lust and playful smile.

_You are hiding from me._

This time, she allowed him to bring her to the end. She was twitching under his touch and was making those adorable sounds, which were growing louder just to stop a second before intimate parts of her body clenched around his fingers repeatedly. When she was finished and her body relaxed, he got up and watched her from above. Her cold eyes were still hazed like a late foggy morning in the winter, when the snow is evaporating into the air. Her expression was blissful and her body laid fully relaxed on the bed. She looked glorious. Suddenly, she garbed his hand and pulled him next to her, straddling him at once. After she undressed him, lazily, taking her time, she rode him in this position. But she did not hurry, either for his or for her pleasure. She rode him through his climax and stopped. But he would have none of it and repositioned them, garbing her bottom to be on the top of her once more:  
“Is...I can't... for the third time ton...” – but he didn't let her finish the sentence.  
He moved gently to have a better angle for his hand and touched her, resuming their slow rhythm once more. He could feel, that she was tired and spent already, but after a while, feeling her muscles tightening slowly again, he moved both of his hands under her shoulder blades, bringing their bodies as close as it was possible. Moving in the same slow rhythm he kissed her neck, her ear and whispered:  
“Come for me, Eryr.”  
He felt her trembling under him and indeed, her body clenched around him soon after, while she dug her fingertips deep into his body and bit him on the shoulder. The experience almost made him cum inside her again, as well.  
After she came down from her climax, he climbed down from her body. They were breathing heavily and it took her a long while to gather herself. She glimpsed at him with a soft smile on her lips and crawled down from the bed to take a sip of her beer.  
“Now, we are going to sleep” – she said with a stern face and lifted the coverlet to cover them both.  
He spooned her, hugging her closely and they both fell asleep almost instantly. They slept better than in months.

 

When he woke up the next morning, he was alone in their bed, obviously. The smell of fresh bread and yeast-cake was filling the room. He got dressed and went downstairs to the main hall, where most of the guests of the Inn had already been eating. He screened the room, but Eryr was no where to be found. For a second he was sure, that she left without a word but then – he heard the voice of one of her man from behind him:  
“She is hunting, but she'll be back” – Isengrim turned around to face the man: tall and slender, with brown, short hair and handsome face - looking almost like a Seidhe himself. He remembered, that he was sitting with Iorveth last night, when Isengrim left to go back upstairs.

_Did they? He looks as if it was possible... But then again, dh'oine are so prude, so probably not._

Involuntary, he stared at Iorveth and studied him: much less tensed, that the night before. Then, he looked back at the man in front of him who was smiling uneasily but still smiling:  
“All of you are like that, aren't you?” – the man started – “He suggested it even before he asked my name” – he chuckled. – “So to answer your question: no, I'm a prude and I've heard it already. As to more important things, my name is Caden.”  
“Now, I understand who you are. You are her best friend, aren't you? And you can read people as well as she can” – Isengrim stated.  
“Yes and for example: I can give you” – he paused – “an advice. Small favour for the rest of us to avoid any unnecessary argument when she comes back” – Caden said and motioned for them to go to the table.  
“I'm listening.”  
“Eating first” – and so they sat at the table and were soon joined by some other Seidhe.  
“Seamus!” – Caden called to the innkeeper after few minutes – “Great bread!”  
“Thank you” – the man answered – “but it wasn't me. It had been already waiting, along with the best yeast-cake I had in my life, when I got down. And as we already tested, it's not poisoned. I thought, that it was one of you.”

Upon hearing the answer, Caden smiled mysteriously and looked knowingly at Isengrim:  
“She baked it after she left you in bed. That means two things: she doesn't want to leave you and she feels like running away from you, at the same time. Soon, she will feel cornered and you will never see her again, fraere. Do not expect her to be who you want her to be, it will never happen. So when she comes back, make sure to know whether you want to take it as it is or leave it, because you cannot have it both ways.”  
Isengrim looked at the dh'oine sitting next to him in deep shock. He pondered for a while and nodded. Then, they changed the subject.

A few hours later, he left the inn and walked in the direction of the forest behind it when he heard voices and saw the pipe-smoke floating in the air. From behind the corner, he overheard the conversation:  
“We can stay a few more days, it's nice in here.”  
“Iorveth's commando is staying and we are invited to join them.”  
“It's really nice to have a roof and a bed for a change. The path is exhausting.”  
He noticed a movement and realised, that one of her men – slightly younger than the rest – stood up with a bow and assumed the position.

_Wrong. You are no archer, boy._

He heard the arrow in the air and saw it hitting (but not precisely) a target situated six dozens of meters in front of him, a little to his right.

_Well, the aim is not the best, too._

“No wonder, that you couldn't hit that boar. You cannot shoot if your life depended on it” – Isengrim recognised Fen's irritated voice.  
It was a different voice than the one she used while speaking to him. This voice was a voice of a strong and determined commander. A voice of the leader, whom no one dared not to follow and no one truly wanted to anger. Isengrim watched her intently, as she approached the archer:  
“Show me your position” – she ordered and when he did, she stood behind him and corrected it moving various parts of the boy's body. When she finished, the position was perfect but her voice was even more irritated: – “now deep breath and shoot” – the shot was good and even the aim was much better than before.  
“Now” – Fen continued – “first and foremost: I could almost hear your blood pressure, as I was correcting your position. It cannot happen again, understood? Start meditating or whatever works but I don't fuck my subordinates and I don't appreciate any of them even imagining it can be otherwise. Secondly, Easbeth!” – she called another man, who came to stand beside her quickly – “You and the green boy will practice here until he can shoot like a fucking Aen Seidhe. Thirdly, we are leaving the day after tomorrow.”  
To his surprise, no one said a word. No one even tried to change her mind.

_They respect her more than I anticipated. There are so many things, that I don't know about her... Or them._

Suddenly, she turned around and looked directly at him. She must have suspected that he was watching her. She was thinking for a while, but walked towards him in the end - a little bit shy and unsure.

_Shy? It's so unlike you, yet so sweet at the same time. But, it's not necessarily what I think it is. Thanks, Caden._

He didn't hesitate for a second. He walked towards her and embraced her, kissing her passionately on the lips. He looked from under half-lowered eyelids at the green boy and Easbeth, but both were already practising. It took them a long while, but in the end, she moved out of his embrace and gave him a questioning glance.  
“How was the hunt?” – he asked casually.  
“Great” – she answered with a cocky smile – “we have a boar and a pheasant.”  
“I can help them” – he motioned Easbeth and the other man. She looked at him with curiosity and smiled:  
“Thank you. If you are bored, you are very welcome. Albert needs a good, old-school Aen Seidhe training, of that I'm sure.”

_You were trained by a Seidhe yourself and you let this information slip. And now I'm to teach a dh'oine archery of all things. I am losing my mind..._

But despite all of these thoughts, he did train with Albert – a gesture of good will and of much more – an uttermost trust. And it was enough... for a while. The rest of the day and the next went smoothly, nicely. When the evening before their departure came, Isengrim realised, that he wanted her to stay longer. He was debating internally, but when they were getting dressed for the dinner, he said at last:  
“I want you to stay. Would you stay, Eryr?”  
She didn't look him in the eyes at once but she stopped in her tracks. When she faced him her expression was already as if made of stone:  
“I know. But I have my own things to do, Is. But...” – she walked to him – “it was nice” – she kissed him gently – “of you to say.”  
For a few seconds, he wanted to comment on her statement.

_Nice of you to say! Almost as good as: I love you – I know. Oh, luned... I'm not sure if I have enough patience for you._

Then, they descended downstairs and sat by the big table in the middle of the hall filled with dim light of many candles, with Iorveth, Caden and many others. During the last night they all spend together in the inn, Iorveth spoke about his arch-enemy – Vernon Roche – at length. With hate and spite, they've known he had in him but still shocked them all.


	12. Iorveth Lammas 1268

IORVETH

 

Lammas 1268  
woods near Carreras  
Ellander

It was the third time, as he saw them during their journey. The Death Squad or as Nilfgaardians called them:  
“Ysbryds... Ghosts” – was all that Galel said once they were led out of the warehouse and headed North-East.  
“What?” – Iorveth inquired.  
“Ysbryds. The Death Squad we passed by... They are them” – he said with a terrified tune in his voice.  
“I remember Latrec telling us something a while ago...” – Iorveth started.  
“They come out of no where. They attack swiftly in the night and they leave no one alive. This started in 1264, I think. But now... well... in Cintra, Nazair and Mettina they are a legend in their own rights. And people, especially in the provinces where there is even the slightest reason to rebel, started to mimic them. There are constant attacks on convoys, even small units and garrisons. They started something like Scoia'tael, but in the Empire. And it spread faster than a rumour about their operations. Unhappy citizens of the Empire, being much more numerous than Aen Seidhe here, well... The Emperor has a serious problem.”

Iorveth looked at them once more. It was already dusk and all he saw from afar were shadows. They didn't travel with them, but were making sure that no Scoia'tael unit would try to free the commanders. They were scouting perpetually – North, East, South and West. Constant vigilance.  
They made impressive figures in a dim light of the setting sun. Their swords crossed on their backs and bows hanged at their sides made them look as if they were ready to attack or carry out their sentences right away. Their horses were prepared to fight, too: in the battle-coats.

 _Beautiful_.

With this thought he fell into a restless sleep: shackled and fixed to the tree trunk. The wound on his face still wasn't healing properly, but wasn't infected any longer. But, he didn't care much - he was going to die soon, either way.

The next morning when he woke up he heard muted voices. Many of them. The kind of quiet voices you use around a dead body.

 

 _Feainn 1254_  
_Eysenlaan_  
_Aedrin_

 _The moonless night's sky was full of stars. They were lying on the forest-floor naked, entangled in each other, as she whispered:_  
_“Iorveth, when do we plan to go?”_  
_“Soon, Shavonne, ma mienne” – he answered, but something in her voice made him worry._  
_He turned to his side and leaned in closer to her body again. He adored the feeling of her body under him, every inch and curve. He knew her by heart but still, he was sure he would never get bored. Her glorious golden hair and sky-blue eyes, her small nose and rose cheeks – every part of her he could draw even in his sleep._  
_“Let me finish the painting” – he said and got up to his easel and canvas._  
_She smiled and resumed her half-lying position. He knew, that this is one of his finest paintings. What he did not know then, is that he would never finish it._  
_A month after that night, she disappeared only to be found a few days later. Her head was smashed and her exquisite face was covered in blood. They've never learned, who did it or why did she die. There was no official investigation._  
_He was sitting by her dead body – for hours, on the pyre – before burning. People where coming and going, speaking in muted voices. He just sat and stared. In the late evening, he got up, went to his home and took the painting. He put it next to her body to be burned and to disappear forever for him, as did she._  
_But after he moved back to stand it was her father, who put a hand on his shoulder, took back the painting and handed him a torch:_  
_“I will take it. Maybe one day you will understand. But now, it' s time to say: Va fail!”_  
_Iorveth lighted the pyre with trembling hands - it was the first pyre he lighted in his life. Maybe this was the reason, why lighting countless pyres in the years to come didn't crush him – there was not much left in him after that one. The one for the first and the only woman he truly loved._

 

His memory came to him in this strange state: the moment between sleeping and waking up. He opened his eye and tried to stretch, forgetting about the shackles. Then, he heard footsteps behind him:  
“Well, well, well... What do we have here? The Squirrel in bracelets?” – the well-known and hated, taunting voice of a man caused him to fist his palms.  
“Vernon Roche...” – Iorveth replied – “would you be able to shoot me now, dh'oine? I promise not to move. And maybe, just maybe, if we fought now, you would have the slightest chance to duel me.”  
“Haha...” – a genuine laughter came out of the mouth of the notorious Blue Stripes commanding officer – “this was a good one Squirrel. You are getting funnier and funnier the longer you are immobilised” – he stated almost surprised.  
“How are you Roche? Still killing innocents? Still torturing prisoners?”  
“No, it was your favourite pass-time, fox. I'm thinking... did you prefer raping men or women? I heard you have a taste for both sexes...”  
“I am no dh'oine, dh'oine!” – Iorveth uttered. – “Do not measure me by your own standards” – the last statement came so spitefully, that even Vernon Roche took a step back.  
“I, not unlike yourself lately, have orders to follow. And I don't have a luxury of moral doubts as to them” – this was the officer's response, cold but calm.  
Iorveth didn't find any response to this statement. He knew that Roche was right, still he didn't hate him any less. The Seidhe looked at the horizon and thought once more:

_What did we do to each other? Was it worth it? Maybe you were lucky, ma mienne. You didn't have to live in these times. You didn't see the time of contempt. It was me, who lost them... my father, your mother, friends and neighbours... Then comrades, even a lover... Forgive me, mienne, cause I cannot paint any more... There can be no art after the time of contempt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Williams „Theme from Schindler's List”


	13. Ves Velen 1268

VES

 

Velen 1268  
the road to Ellander  
Ellander

Their sad procession was marching through hills and forests of Ellander. The autumn was beautiful this year, countless trees were in rich gold, red and brown colours. But the days had already been shorter.

_What a metaphor... I was fighting these people for years and now... My feelings are changing like the colours of leaves beneath my feet. But the time is getting shorter. Their time..._

There was also the matter of the Vicovarian... Galel Najwa aep Askari. The young officer of the second Vicovaro Brigade, the man who simply refused to leave his comrades and to kneel. The man who was as stupid as he was brave. And he was a Nilfgaardian, well Vicovarian, but still: an enemy.  
Ves was watching him closely for the last days. In such a short time he became one of them – a Squirrel, just with a little darker complexion... One night, when he was sitting alone by the fire, she decided to sit with him. He was surprised at first, but then... his face looked like nothing could really shock him any longer... She asked him:  
“Why did you do it?”  
“Did what?”  
“Defy the order, obviously... What else?”  
“Maybe: why did I bring them here in the first place? The answer to your question is easy: it was the right thing to do, the honourable one. The answer to my question: I was a fool. The decision I made in Dillingen was not really a hard one: it's better to live a day like a king than live a life as a beggar.”  
“They are murderers, war criminals...”  
“So are we” – he said in a sad voice and motioned to her and to himself. – “I heard, what you are, Ves and I know what I did. Is there truly a difference?”  
They didn't speak anything for a long time, but she didn't leave - they were just sitting together in comfortable silence. It was Galel, who started to speak:  
“Do you know the history of Vicovaro, my homeland?”  
“Not much, I must confess...”  
“For a long time, Vicovaro was opposing the Nilfgaardian occupation. The Duchess, the ancestor to the one ruling today, was leading the rebellion. It lasted for two decades. But then, one day, her younger daughter was caught leading their rebel armies in one of the biggest fights of that civil war. With the leverage, the Emperor made an offer to the Duchess: one of you must die – either you or your daughter. He promised to let the young woman go free after the deed was done. So, the Duchess poisoned herself. The Emperor, in the meantime, married her daughter and never set her free. Her sister fought for many more years, but in the end, Vicovaro was taken and as a punishment for the rebellion: in every ten years one hundred and eleven boys from noble families must become part of the army in service to Nilfgaard, in addition to a typical enrolment” – he fell quiet for a while before adding:  
“We, Vicovarians, we know everything about humiliation and betrayal. But we also understand fight to the very end “– he looked sadly at officers of the Vrihedd. – “Freedom, the philosopher's concept, but still worth dying for.”  
“They are driven by hatred, not by freedom, Galel” – Ves stated.  
The man looked at her as she spoke. His expression was pensive. Then, he whispered:  
“He is dead, Ves... Not all of them are like that...”  
“I know. I don't hate them, gods... I don't even hate him. In a sick and twisted way, he spared my life and he wasn't... but... No, I can't talk about it.”  
“I'm sorry... I shouldn't.”  
“But when I look at them, I think... how many of them did the same? Burning civilian villages, massacring the inhabitants, abducting women... How many? How many times?”  
“I do not know the answer” – he said in even sadder voice.  
“But then, I heard general Natalis talking to Coinneach Da Réo. And I heard Iorveth and Isengrim talking about their past. And I believe, that maybe... just maybe... some of them don't deserve this fate. But, we'll never know. They'll never talk about it, they'll never give each other up. In the end, it doesn't really matter, because the kings crave for elven blood. They want to make them pay for everything, including what the rest of the Nilfgaardian army did, not only the Vrihedd Brigade. And I... I just cannot tell...” – she trailed off.  
“Me neither, Ves.”  
When Ves spoke again she whispered:  
“I remember when we found two elven scouts, just before the battle of Brenna. He was... mutilated, she was... ripped apart. I'll never forget that.”  
“Monsters don't have race nor nationality...”  
“No, they don't.”

They were sitting together for a long time, conversing. After a while, even laughing. But they were running out of time.

_Is there a magical time-turner to start it all over again?_


	14. Caden Saovine 1266

CADEN

 

Saovine 1266  
orchard near Buki  
Kaedwen

He was observing Fen's conversation with hav'caaren, the one they bought a long time ago to bring them information about various things. But his commander was wise enough never to ask about the Scoia'tael directly. The discussion was nearing its end when Fen posed her favourite question:  
“Any news actually worthy of my time? And money?”  
“Isengrim Faoiltiarna is heading to a trap as we speak. The Order of the Flaming Rose is very close to get the highest price they've dreamt of. The literal price in money for his head is substantial already, but we both know, that the Knights are doing it for fun and convictions. Not for money. If you hurry up, you may kill him yourself and become rich. Just” – he smiled viscously – “remember then, who sent you to the right place.”  
She observed him seemingly bored and asked:  
“And where would it be?”  
“A few hours from here, at the crossing of Buina in Shaerrawedd direction. They believe it will be a nice symbol. And I'm telling that to you, not to the others, because you pay me ridiculously much for my services... but mostly, because I like your arse.”  
“OK, Sylas. Get out of my sight. Goodbye!” – after that the hav'caaren left.  
Fen stood for a while looking at the forest. He knew as well as she did, that it could be a trap for them. Set by Redanians, the Order or other bounty hunters - take your pick. Be he knew, before she did, that she would never leave Isengrim to die if she was able to stop it. No matter the price. She was pathologically loyal and would she never leave men behind. This was the main reason why he became one of the Riders and why, by now, they were riding in twelve.

 

_Feainn 1264_  
_Tigg_

_It was three hours after midnight, just the time when the soldiers from the second night shift should begin to be tired and sleepy._  
_He prepared the arrow and waited for Fen's silent command. She raised up her right arm with open palm, her fingers were squeezed tightly together: Pull! Then her arm fell swiftly to her side: Release! Their arrows flew towards the sentinels, who fell one by one. Then, they moved slowly towards the fortress and a few minutes later, inside the buildings. They were bringing a silent death in the night: unseen, unheard, almost like they have never been there. The only evidence of their presence were dead bodies and blood spilt everywhere._  
_The Nilfgaardian garrison was much more numerous, than they were. They probably had odds close to 10 to 1, with only ten Riders and Fen at their side. He lost count of lives, which he took tonight. Or a week before or... They attacked in Chociebuż, Attre and Kagen during last year: coming and going without a trace._  
_In the last hall, they were attacked - someone had discovered their presence. He heard a scream:_  
_“Ysbryds!” – and soon, they were encircled by many foes._  
_The fight was hectic and unequal. He saw Rodderick falling dead next to him. But he truly froze, when all Nilfgaardians but one were dead. The last one alive had his hand around Fen's neck, while she was lying with her back on the floor. He was strangling her while dabbing his dagger to the base of her face. Caden shot him, but when he was falling dead, he still managed to make a cut._  
_He saw her terrified eyes, he heard nine remaining Riders screaming and running to her side. But he knew what happened: the blood was flowing massively but it was dark and wasn't under too high pressure. He didn't hear screeching, a characteristic sound made by the last breath of a person with a throat cut. She was going to live._  
_When he got closer, he saw her skin from the right ear through her chin towards the left ear, cut precisely on the jawbone. The Nilfgaardian missed by the inch. Still, she would have a terrible scar for the rest of her life._

 

He remembered this fight. They left no one alive, just like today. Blood was everywhere, as were dead bodies. Fen was checking on Leanan, who seemed to be unharmed. Seven Scoia'tael laid dead among them Gael and Arlen, next to them one of the Riders, Wade.  
“Now you are free. Go home, my friends. We will follow you one day” – his commander said. Her line, something she always said when they lost someone.

_No tears, no choked words. Calm and respectful farewell. Making it worth to die following her orders. And this was at least twentieth time she said it since we've started._

Gareth and the rest were taking care of the bodies, preparing to bury them in the ground. They couldn't make a pyre.

_Forgive us, faerers, but we simply cannot. May your spirits rest where apple-trees bloom or join your ancestors, where you belong. Go in peace now._

Albert was kneeling next to Isengrim, holding bandages to his face.  
“Caden! Come here” – it was Fen's worried voice.  
“Hmm?” – he started, approaching her.  
“We need to get him to a safe house. It's far, but it's our only option.”  
“Agreed, we prepare the horses. We'll make a stretcher for him. But we'll need to ride through the whole night.”  
“You will, more than one, that's true. We have no choice and he has no time” – she said calmly – “you're in charge, my friend. I'm going to get some help.”  
“Good luck.”  
“And to you.”  
He observed Fen. She went to Albert – who took two steps back, giving her some space – and knelt next to Isengrim. She touched his hand breathing heavily but quickly stood up.  
“It's time to go. Va fail!” – she said and got to her saddle. Then, she spun her horse around and disappeared on the road.

 

Few days later, they were sitting in a small room: making some repairs, preparing their swords and arrows. Waiting. Suddenly, the door to the bedroom opened and Shani walked out:  
“He's waking up.”  
“Thank you, Shani” – Fen said and rushed inside.  
Caden and Albert followed her, the rest decided to wait for news. She sat at his bedside:  
“Wh...” – Isengrim tried to talk, but couldn't.  
“Shh... Me mienne. You were attacked. Leanan is alive and rode to inform Iorveth and Coinneach and maybe other commanders about what has happened. Rest of your men... I am so sorry, me mienne. We did our best, but we lost them. We were too late... You were injured and you have a wound on your face, so try not to speak or make any facial expressions. We are safe here. Now, I was instructed to ask you some questions to check how are you. Do you know who I am?” – when she finished, Isengrim shook his head.  
“Wh...?” – Fen started – “Caden, tell Shani that he lost his long-term memory” – her voice was sad, but calm.  
“Did you understand what I told you a minute ago?”  
“Caden pass to Shani, that he understands Hen Llinge and has short-term memory intact” – he left the room to forward both messages and while he was leaving, he heard Fen saying – “Sleep, now. Your body needs it” – and she sobbed quietly.

Fen left the room after a few hours. She fell asleep on the mattress on the floor in the main room, leaving Gareth and Shani to watch over Isengrim. He covered her with a blanket and watched her sleep. Her eyes were not swollen.

_Does she ever cry? Probably not. Not until the end._

He fell asleep on the mattress next to hers. He wasn't sure how long he was asleep but he was woken up by loud voices:  
“Fen!” – it was Shani's voice calling her.  
He looked around and saw Fen waking up, as well. They both got up and rushed to Isengrim's bed.  
“… please stop moving” – Albert tried to keep Isengrim on the bed and Shani was pleading with him – “I know it hurts, but you are making things worse.”  
“Is, stop!” – it was Fen, who gave the order and the Seidhe immediately stopped moving. Fen got closer to him. – “Do you remember me?” – she asked hopefully.  
He saw Isengrim looking with confusion at her but nodding. Fen smiled warmly:  
“A few hours ago you didn't, me mienne” – Caden looked at Shani and saw the shock on her face but she said nothing.

_Me mienne... Shani knows what it meant, but respects her too much to even ask about it._

They've spent three more days in the cottage house but they needed to go. Fen was spending most of her time with Isengrim: talking to him, reading and just being there for him. Shani allowed them to start helping Isengrim to walk and move normally again to recover as fast as he could – he needed to go to his men and to his fight, as well. After a few days of painful and rigorous exercises, he could talk and walk on his own. Shani promised to stay with him for the next ten days, which he needed to start healing properly. Fen asked Caden to talk to the Seidhe about their plans. As he entered the room, he started, but wasn't sure how to say, what he had to say:  
“How are you today?”  
“Almost normal” – was Isengrim's response.  
“You must stay here for ten days.”  
“I don't like it.”  
“I know, but if you wouldn't, your wound may open again and all that we have done and risked would be in vain” – he watched Isengrim's face going from defiant to resigned, as he agreed:  
“OK” – he paused before continuing: – “I guess, that you are leaving?” – he half-stated, half-asked.  
“Yes. Tomorrow the first thing. We must all go, only Albert will stay to keep watch until Leanan will be back and he should be here soon.”  
“Can you call Fen? Ask her to take a mirror. I want to see my face before you go.”  
“Of course.”  
Fen entered the room after he called with a mirror in her hand. Her face was dark and sorrowful when she closed the door. They were together in the room for a long time. When Caden and the rest re-entered the room in the evening to say: Va fail! Both Fen and Isengrim were deadly serious but kept faces expressionless like made of stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X Ambassadors „Unsteady”


	15. Coinneach Velen 1268

COINNEACH

 

Velen 1268  
White Bridge  
Temeria

After the battle of Brenna, he became the oldest Scoia'tael commander alive. After Ginion's death – the last of them who lived in the times of Lara Doren but even he was born not long before her daughter, Riannon. Ginion was also the last to be a witness to Aedrinian conquer of Dol Blathanna. Now, it was Coinneach, who became the one that remembered the most. Even if he didn't remember half as much.

_The era of truly experienced commanders has ended. And they were lucky to die on the battlefield. It is us, the young, as they called us, who would pay for the sins of all. We will be put down like mad dogs, the dh'oine will see to that._

Their death march started two weeks ago and they still had a week to Drakenborg.

_A week to live... What would I do if I was free? How much time has past, since I've done anything else but fighting?_

Looking around the camp, he observed dh'oine guards escorting them. Through the last week, it was his favourite pass-time. He imagined their deaths at first, quite a silly intellectual exercise, but as something to occupy his thoughts - it was perfect. They were all Temerian soldiers, only a few days ago joined by the infamous Blue Stripes and they were not blood-hungry monsters he wanted them to be. They were normal men.

After the first day of the march, he was observing Donnaegan carefully. His ankle was sprained, every step seemed painful. His friends couldn't help him, shackled themselves and observed closely by the guards. When they stopped for the night, it was Jon Natalis, who approached him:  
“Are you Coinneach Da Réo?” – he stated more than asked in common tongue.  
“Eassea” – the Seidhe answered.  
The Nordling was looking at him pointedly and sighed. But when he spoke the next time, he used Hen Llinge as well:  
“I don't want to drag you shackled and injured. It gives me no pleasure to perform this duty, but a duty it is. Will your men try to run if we release them from the shackles?”  
Coinneach was pondering for a long time on his answer. When he spoke, he spoke in Common:  
“Yes, general Natalis. They will run for their lives. Like Isengrim attempted before you, yourself, caught him and brought him back. Did you expect otherwise?”  
“No, commander. But it pains me to see any of you like that. And we have at least three weeks to...” – Jon started but stopped like he couldn't say the name of that place.  
“Drakenborg” – Coinneach stated. Jon looked him in the eyes:  
“Haegan, Donnaegan and Iorveth won't make it and I'm not torturing people” – said Jon like he was angry at himself for being there. The Seidhe watched the dh'oine in front of him: probably his age, tired of this war, used to following orders of the others - some of them lesser men than himself.  
“Can you help it, general?” – Coinneach inquired.  
“Yes. I already called a doctor. She will be here soon, but I need assurance, that they won't hurt anyone or try to run away if I'm to truly relieve their suffering.”  
“Why do you care? This is a death march, remember?”  
“I do, commander. But I, for one, can still tell right from wrong” – said the dh'oine with sad eyes and determined face.

They worked it out and when the doctor, young girl by the name Shani arrived - Haegan, Donnaegan and Iorveth were unshackled and in the tent. Two weeks later but for the fact, that they were going to their death, they were at the best road to full recovery. Even Iorveth's scar was getting much better thanks to her assistance.  
This first conversation with Jon Natalis led to many more, during which they both learned and understood more about each other. For Coinneach it led to deep reflection on what he believed about the difference between his race and humans – what some may call: race superiority complex, typical for Aen Seidhe. They were always mocking dh'oine for they fly-like lifespans, but dh'oine in their time probably lived more than Seidhe in their long years: grasping every minute every day and clinging to their lives with all they had.

_What is the difference, then?_

Jon Natalis approached him with a supper. The general unshackled him and handed the cutlery and the plate. During these last weeks, many of the Scoia'tael ate better than for the last few years. Most of them already looked healthier than before the battle at Meyena. Indeed, if not for the shackles during the march and their ultimate goal, the journey was rather pleasant.

_Tedd Deireádh... The Time of End... It's not what it was supposed to be._


	16. Coinneach Blathe 1263

COINNEACH

 

Blathe 1263  
woods near Flotsam  
Temeria

He was looking helplessly at one of the wooden huts, which they built the last year. Inside, two Seidhe children were barred without a chance to run away. Outside, they were surrounded by Knights of the Order of the Flaming Rose. Crossbows were pointed at hearts of every member of his commando. If they tried to rescue the children ,they would all die for it. But to stand there, helpless, while one of the knights lighted up the torch and was ready to throw it on the hut...

_Barbarian! Savage! The children! But there is no way out of this._

Just when the hut got on fire, out of no where arrows started to fly and Knights were dying one by one. The fight started and five men with swords emerged from the woods. But, he was more concerned with the hut right now. When he got closer to the door, they were already swinging open and a silhouette emerged from the flames, carrying both Daelien and Dorian in the arms. The person put them down and they ran in Coinneach's direction. Just then, the hell broke lose. The hut collapsed and fell partially on the rescuer. The person crawled few meters and Coinneach, leaving the children with Ysmen and Finnael, got to the person's side. He tore apart the burning trousers and successfully stopped the flame before more damage was done. His palms were slightly burned, but it was not much in comparison with the burn that was already visible on the right leg of the man lying in front of him and panting. A second later, he heard another man running from behind him and calling:  
“Fen!”  
He looked at the man, who was dropping to his knees on the opposite side of the lying body. He was a dh'oine and a complete stranger. The man removed the hood of the person still lying on the ground and gasping for air. Medium-cut auburn hair was revealed among with rounded ears. When the mask was removed too, Coinneach realised, that it was a woman. This should probably be obvious from the very beginning, but with all that happened, he didn't have much time to analyse. Her body was petite, slender like a Seidhe but she was shorter than most Aen Seidhe females.  
“It's fine” – she spoke in fluent Hen Llinge. Her voice hoarse, but strong – “water...”  
It was Ysmen, mother of Daelien, who rushed to fetch the water and brought it, soon. The woman called Fen, drunk it and said:  
“Thank you” – looking Ysmen in the eyes.  
Coinneach looked at her wound.

_She needs help. And she jumped to the fire for our children. Aenyell'hael... Baptism of fire..._

“There is a place, not far from here, where we will hide. Come with us, she needs help” – he said to the dh'oine kneeling at her side. But it was Fen, who answered:  
“Thank you but you don't need to do it. We'll manage on our own” – she said politely.  
“It's a _faux pas_ not to return a gesture like yours, luned and it's a _faux pas_ to turn down a repayment” – he said in a strong, commanding voice.

It was the first time, as she looked him directly in the eyes. She was dirty, trails of tears were visible on her black from the smoke cheeks. She looked like something the cat dragged in. But, he noticed more, soon: sensual lips, high cheekbones and nicely shaped nose. And the eyes...

_Hard to say whether they are more grey like melted silver or more blue like a sky in the summer. Undoubtedly, she is an Eatewedd... a summer-child... Her expression looks determined, but warm. Deithdaeg... you are like a red flame and I bet you'll try to defy me once more._

“So sorry for my lack of manners. Is my attire not to your liking, as well? After all, you started to remove it, already” – she asked agitatedly. – “We must be on our way” – she added with calmer voice – “but once again, thank you...”  
Then, she tried to get up, but as her weight was shifted to the injured leg, she lost the balance completely and would fell. Coinneach was ready for that and caught her. While she was still off guard, he put one hand on her back, the other under her knees and lifted her with ease, bridal-style.  
“What the...?” – she started, but seeing his stern expression and a raised eyebrow, she went quiet, allowing him to carry her to her horse, which was led closer to them by one of her men.  
He looked down at her again and smiled slightly.

_So young and so beautiful like dawn on Midaëte. Youth. One of the things we, Aen Seidhe, desire more than anything else. Her vitality is almost vibrating from her body and she is so close... Smelling of fire._

When he was helping her on the horse, her jacket and her blouse lifted just a little bit above the line of her belt and he touched her naked skin. He stopped breathing at the sensation, knowing, that he won't forget this moment for a long time.

 

For the next few days, they all stayed around the caves. Her men – the Riders – as they called themselves, were accepted after a while by his commando. They referred to her as just Fen but never made a single decision without consulting her. She was their leader and this was certain. They didn't speak much about themselves – mostly some trivia. He wondered for a while about them: who are they? What are they doing and why did they help? But he decided to wait before investigating in the matter.  
By the full moon, she was much better. It turned out, that she knew few things about healing as well and together with Ysmen and two other Seidhe they made a miracle.

_But terrible scarring on her calf and foot will stay there for the rest of her life..._

“Gealach lán is upon us today” – she said when he entered the cave. He found her sitting on her mattress with a sword in her right hand and a sharpener in the other.  
“It is” – he replied.  
“I've spoken to my boys, they'll go to the brothel in White Bridge. They have my blessing but they need your permission to do that, too. We are but guests in your commando” – she said and for the first time in days, there was no irony in that statement.  
Coinneach didn't answer for a while. On this night, a full moon, men and women in his commando will make love, that was for sure. Freely and passionately as was the Aen Seidhe way. Every full moon was a celebration for most of Aen Seidhe communities, not even for sex as such, but in hope, that maybe a life will come out of it: a pure-blooded Aen Seidhe child like Daelien and Dorian. He was thinking about it for the last few days, too.

_Presence of dh'oine could be a cause for serious trouble. But to let them go with knowledge about the location of the camp?_

“I'll stay” – she interrupted his thoughts – “as a hostage. But I swear to you, they won't give you up. You decided to let us in, Coinneach, now we are facing the consequences of your decision” – she looked at him with a serious expression.  
“I agree with your plan. Tell them, that they have my permission.”  
“Would you like me to keep the watch for a night?” – she asked.  
“No. I'll do it myself” – he said – “but it was nice of you to offer” – he added before he left.  
She stayed in the caves all night, alone and not disturbed by anyone. That was his clear order. He kept the watch for the whole night by himself. He could join his commando, share the watch but all he could think of was the young dh'oine woman sleeping alone in the caves. The same girl, who haunted his dreams every time more explicitly than the last, since he accidentally brushed his hand against her naked skin.


	17. Fen Blathe 1263

FEN

Blathe 1263  
a few days later  
woods near Flotsam  
Temeria

After her men came back, she suggested, that they should go to the town and buy herbs and medicine, which the commando lost because of her. She also suggested, that if they go to Flotsam, only a few days away, they may learn if the Order of the Flaming Rose is chasing them. Coinneach agreed with her again, but suggested, that only the two of them should go – he had some business in Flotsam as well, but he didn't want to endanger anyone else. When she heard that, she blinked a few times but agreed.  
This was how she ended up here - in the forest near Flotsam, on the early morning, watching the Seidhe sitting next to her. He was occupied with gathering their belongings, while she sat on the ground and observed. She didn't know much about him, but something in his behaviour told her, that he is at least twice her age. Still, as Aen Seidhe, he looked like he was twenty-five. He had beautiful and long, light-brown hair fastened in a ponytail. He was incredibly handsome, like the statues of the Aen Seidhe of old, exemplifying pure perfection. But it was his eyes, which caused her heart to beat much too fast every time he looked at her: amber reminding her of liquid gold. He was calm and demanding, but warm and gentle at the same time. When they met almost ten days ago, she didn't think of him like that, angry and in pain, treated by him like a child. But now, she grew to like his presence. At the same time, she started to practice meditation – any time he got too close to her. He was no Aen Seidhe boy she was accustomed to and she knew, that there is no way he may even consider her – a dh'oine, probably no more than a girl to him – as a mate. And being no child, she controlled her thoughts and reactions. He stood up. Before he turned around to face her, she stopped staring and stood up, too. Then, she caught him looking at her, deep in thoughts. All their things packed were lying on the ground.  
“We are near Cáelmewedd...” – he started.  
“I know and I think, that we need a bath” – she interrupted him casually.  
“Would you like to join me?” – he offered with a gentle but playful smile. Then, he started to walk away in the direction of a small hill.  
She stood dumbfounded on her spot for a while. Blinking.

_Did he just..? He did, didn't he? So, maybe I was wrong after all... But, Aen Seidhe take bath together without it leading to anything else. They are accustomed to the nudity and lack shame. Still, before he was so careful around me not to cross any line, any boundary of my intimacy. What changed?_

Deep in her thoughts, she followed in anticipation but with calm and studied expression. She saw him entering the ruined bath a few meters below the famous statue of eternal lovers. When she got in, he was still fully dressed, standing with the rose bushes and richly ornamented pillars behind him. This place was magical. When she stood in front of him debating internally, whether to stand there or to move past him, he gently moved his hand to her face. He stroked her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear, brushing his fingertips against its edge. His face was warm, but he looked as if he was trying to solve a riddle. He rested like that for a while. She felt her elevated pressure, her wetness, how hard it was to breathe with him so close to her. After a while, she lost her patience and asked a little bit too harsh:  
“What do you want from me, Coinneach?”  
“Everything, luned...” – he said quietly and encircled her. Standing behind her he added in a husky, but steady voice:  
“Your scent is intoxicating. But it was the touch of your skin, what truly was my doom. You are like a small flame, which once set is spreading and soon the fire is the only thing, that you can see. Squaess'me for the reference, but from the moment I saw you, that day - emerging from flames - you are constantly on my mind, Deithdaeg.”  
He said all these seductive words to her hair, his breath was teasing her neck and his hands were gently touching her hips. It was such a simple gesture of intimacy but it made her dizzy with desire and sent shiver after shiver down her spine. She didn't think for long and started to unbutton her jacket, her shirt and to take them off. Soon, the rest of her attire followed, but she didn't turn around to face him. Instead, she went to the bath and jumped. From the water, she looked at him with a teasing smile.  
He followed her and crouched at the edge of the pool, still fully clothed. She swam to him and emerged lifting her body on her arms to sit in front of him. Her legs were still in the pool, her bottom rested on its edge and her upper body was tilting to him. She was soaking wet, with drops of water all over her body. When she looked him in the eyes, she saw how dilated his pupils were, making his eyes almost black instead of amber colour they usually had.  
“So after you said all these seductive things, how do you plan to take advantage of this golden tongue of yours?” – she asked lightly.  
He was taking in the view in front of him. And he took his time to admire the full shapes of certain parts of her body. With a smirk she continued:  
“When you make up your mind, you know where to find me” – and she slid back to the pool.  
After that clear invitation, he undressed and jumped to the bath himself. His body was incredible. She was waiting for him in shallower waters. There, the water was covering her body to her breasts. He sneaked his arms around her waist and pull her to his body. Then, he kissed her gently, while her hand moved on its own accord to his face. He was exploring her. No other word could be used for his fascination with her naked body. Somehow, among these ministrations, he was lifting her up by the bottom. He pushed her gently to the wall of the pool and aligned himself with her, teasing her and brushing gently. His movements were seemingly light, but studied and precise. He made it feel, like they had all the time in the world and nothing needed to happen if they wouldn't feel like it.

She was torn between enjoying this teasing sensation, her pleasure slowly building up in her and powerful and primal need to take him inside her. But she made up her mind and decided to let him do to her whatever he planned to. She was already floating at the edge of coherent thinking and small moans were coming out of her mouth on their own.  
He looked her in the eyes with a fond smile gracing his lips. Like reading her mind, he kissed her: lips, jaw and went down to her neck lifting her slightly higher. Her feet were entangled behind his back, allowing him access to her at any time. Her arms were resting around his neck. His seemingly superficial movements were becoming deeper and deeper as her body was opening for him. After a few more moments and one stronger thrust, he was inside her. She wouldn't even realise that if the angle of his stimulation didn't change and if his hand, which was resting on her back before, didn't sneak between them. He picked up the pace just a little bit when she started to tighten around him.  
When she came, her head fell back and her body trembled violently. He was moving inside her during the second, even stronger climax and the third. When her body went limp in his embrace, he released her gently and kissed her on the lips. He slid out of her and looked in her foggy eyes, allowing her feet to touch the ground.  
When she came back from her peak she looked up, confused.

_Why didn't you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Pretty Reckless „Make Me Wanna Die”


	18. Coinneach Blathe 1263

COINNEACH

 

Blathe 1263  
Cáelmewedd  
Temeria

He saw her confusion and realised, that she wouldn't let it go, so he said:  
“I'd like to watch that a few more times today, luned.”  
The confusion was replaced by understanding and a cocky smile:  
“How many times, exactly? You know, now... I want to see what I've heard” – she replied.  
“Let me show you, then” – he said with a deep chuckle. He took her hand and brought them both to the shelf in the corner of the bath. She sat down, tilting her hips just a little bit up and pushing her upper body a little bit back to be in a different angle. When he saw, what she was doing, he grinned.

_She is a daring little thing, isn't she? And she knows exactly what she wants. Young, daring and decisive. I'm a lucky man, am I not?_

The water around the shelf was even shallower, allowing him to kneel in front of her and to start with kissing and sucking on her nipples. He rested his palm in between her tights to provide the stimulation all the time. She was moaning, soon and her body started to brush up against his palm on its own accord. He aligned with her once more and this time, entered swiftly. The sensation made her open her mouth and gasp. She adjusted easily to him and put her hands on his back, digging her fingernails deep into his skin. He hissed, but enjoyed her violent reaction. He was changing his pace this time, what ended up in her surprise moans now and then. When he felt her tightening around him, again, he slid out of her making her glance in utter confusion from below half-lowered eyelids. He smirked, cause this was exactly what he was waiting for, and entered her again - moving through her clitoris slowly, but surely and then slipping back inside her. The moment he was sheathed inside her, she came: panting in shock, pleasure pulsating through her entire body.  
He moved gently through her climax, the strong first one was followed by few light ones, but still making her spasm and clench around him from time to time.

_Well... I'm closer myself than I thought... Somehow this young woman in front of me, with her hunger for ecstasy, pushes me to the edge, as well._

He left her and moved to the deeper water to swim and clear his thoughts. She followed him and leaned on the wall of the pool, resting. When he came to her she put her hands on his chest, smiled and kissed him gently. He led her again to the shallow waters, which was only deep enough to cover her womb. He grabbed one of her hips and turned her around. She read his mind again and bent her upper body on the edge of the pool.

_Her legs tightened. This view of her bottom... well... even if I wanted I wouldn't be able to stop myself this time._

He started with his fingers, pushing two inside her from behind and using the other hand to draw small circles on her sensitive spot from the front. After a few moans, which escaped from her parted lips, he added a third finger easily and moved his hand slightly inside her to stimulate her front wall. When she started to tighten, he removed his fingers and pushed his length inside her. He moved with lazy, but long and deep thrusts until he felt her getting close to her peak. Then, he stopped moving the hand, which he had at her clitoris, but didn't remove it from her. He accelerated his thrusts and after a few moments, she clenched around him again, as her climax was taking over her. He followed and came inside her with a deep groan.  
He didn't move at once - he touched her back and bottom, pulled her upper body up to his and kissed the back of her neck, while she leaned to him still a little bit dazed. He slid out of her and moved back, allowing her to face him. She did turn around and grinned, seemingly more than satisfied. He wanted to kiss her again, but she was already moving to swim. This was his turn to stand by the wall and watch her. After a few minutes she said with a smile.  
“It's time we go.”  
With those final words, they both emerged from the pool, clothed themselves and went to the town, hoping, that their would hair dry before they get there.

 

The way back to his commando took them three days, instead of two, but they were enjoying each other's company. There were closeness and intimacy growing between them. He knew, that his feelings for her were starting to become more than they should be.

_She is just a dh'oine._

This thought became his mantra every time he smiled involuntary watching her do absolutely ordinary things. Every time he enjoyed watching her sleep. And every time he longed for the feeling of her body close to his. They've never spoken a word about it.  


At the camp, they acted exactly the same as before they left. No one said a word. She refused to sleep in the caves on her own, due to the fact, that she was no longer healing and didn't need extra care, so she joined her man in one of the tents they had with them. No special treatment was accepted by her, since she was healed and perfectly fine.  
The second night since they've came back, she sneaked to his tent, where he was sleeping alone. It was an intense night, not only physically. She was getting under his skin and there was some anxiety in her, too. He decided to try to speak to her the next day.  
But in the morning... she, her men and all that they had was gone. The Scoia'tael, who were keeping watch that night – were lying asleep, without a single memory of the previous evening and the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deftones „Change”


	19. Coinneach Feainn 1266

COINNEACH

 

Feainn 1266  
woods near White Bridge  
Temeria

He was travelling South with his commando. Five of his men have been already scouting, fifteen were following him. The night was dark, but warm as for early summer night. It was sometime after midnight. Coinneach heard movement in the forest and motioned his hand in the direction, ready to shoot. Then he heard a whistle, which he would recognise everywhere: Isengrim. He whistled back and relaxed. The younger Seidhe approached from the tree-line with four men - Coinneach recognised Devlin and Faolan, two others were new.  
He pondered about the younger Seidhe, who was just coming to greet him. The scar he acquired more than half a year ago was unmistakable and soon became a symbol. The symbol of death in theirs, Aen Seidhe, forests. It was good for their cause, making Isengrim famous, but also making his life considerably harder. The price for his head was now ludicrously high.  
He remembered their first meeting back in 1263, when Coinneach was already leading a commando, but Isengrim was not yet fully committed to the fight, helping here and there, travelling with a small group of Aen Seidhe, but never more than four.

 

_Saovine 1263_  
_near Montecalvo_  
_Redania_

_It was late afternoon and the sun was setting in the West. The two Seidhe were sitting by the fire. No one else was on the horizon, limited by the fact, that they were deep in the forest. They were speaking in quiet voices:_  
_“Is, you are already leading a commando, whether you have chosen it or not. Your men will follow you to the end. There is no way out anymore.”_  
_“I'm not running away, Neach. I'm just not planning to take responsibility for more men. We can fight for you, fraere. Just say a word.”_  
_“No, Is. You are a born leader and one day we'll all follow you into the battle and into the future. But you need to learn first” – he looked at the younger Seidhe._  
_He knew, deep down, that the young man beside him would someday be ready for the duty Neach had already foreseen for him. Because one day, they would need to fight united and die on the battlefield, not hiding in forests. There was something in Isengrim's demeanour: calm, charismatic and ruthless, which seemed to be perfect for the role. Like he was born to lead them to whatever end._  
_“There are more experienced commanders. I am just a boy for many of them, Neach.”_  
_“A boy, in whose veins flows the blood of the first Aen Seidhe to set foot in the Pontar Valley. As your father, you can use the title 'from the White Ships'. It's no ordinary legacy, Is.”_  
_“Really, Neach? I should have never told you my full name. And I beg you: no one is to know that. I even doubt, that after all these years since my father's death, Filavandrel himself would realise who I am and this is how I would like it to remain” – Isengrim grew agitated._  
_“Let's change the subject, then” – Neach decided to let it go. For now,_  
_They spoke at length of strategies, plans. They were both drunk with the seemingly endless possibilities lying before them, ready to grasp. If only more dare to fight beside them, they may even achieve the main goal: to push dh'oine as far into the West as they could._  
_Neither of them truly young, even for Aen Seidhe, both bored and believing, that they can have everything – they spent a night together for the first and the last time. Not that either of them actually preferred men, but it didn't matter. For Aen Seidhe one emotion led to the other and making love was the most natural thing in the world._

 

The voice of the younger Seidhe brought him back from his memories:  
“Ceád'mil, fraere. Long time... We are riding from a village near Houtborg – Waldheim. All residents were killed and I guess why: Angus's commando stayed there for a while. Thankfully, they were already gone. We are tracking whoever did it, but I know now, by the tracks, that they are too many. Even with your men we still need 10 to 15 more bows...”  
“Ceád'mil. Let's see them first. There is a nice hill just in front of us, we should have a better view from up there” – Neach suggested.  
“Agreed.”  
They arrived at the top of the hill an hour later and it was Faolan, who pointed to a spot South-West from where they stood. There they saw a fire and a large camp. They decided to get closer. Close to the camp they quickly guessed, who was stationed there:

_The Bastards. Group of ordinary bandits, bounty hunters, cheap mercenaries. The worst scum of dh'oine. How did Iorveth put it? Killing them is like pulling out the weed. Strangely relaxing. Exactly, boy, exactly..._

Neach decided to attack, but Isengrim was hesitating:  
“Is it worth the risk? What are we to gain?” – he asked pondering, with cold calculation in his voice.  
“They are no match for all of us, but they are irritating and dangerous for smaller commandos. Still, it's your choice, Isengrim” – Neach grinned – “you were following them first.”  
“I say we leave them be, there is...” – but the younger Seidhe didn't finish. From the camp's direction a single rider was coming and upon seeing them, whistled. Neach didn't recognise him. He knew the whistle, but in these times and in such locations, it wasn't enough. At once, he had a bow in his hand. If he was in a worse mood - the boy would be dead.  
“Albert!” – Isengrim shouted – “Are you crazy? We could have shot you.”  
“No time, commanders! They are going to die. She is there, Isengrim!”  
Coinneach had no idea to whom they referred to, but Isengrim's face went expressionless and white, and then - to the surprise of all - horrified.  
“Albert, yes? How many?” – Coinneach asked the boy.  
“60 at least, sir” – the boy was a dh'oine, used to the company of Aen Seidhe - respectful but unafraid. Neach liked him at once.  
“And you?” – Isengrim inquired.  
“Nine there and me” – hearing the answer, Isengrim hesitated no longer:  
“Scoia'tael! Adhart!”

They got to the clearing, where the camp was situated. At once they saw it: eight men in travelling attire encircled by much more numerous Bastards. The ninth silhouette was dragged away at the other side of the camp by four men in the direction of one of the tents.  
“Neach! Take the command, now. And cover me” – Isengrim ordered.  
“Scoia'tael, prepare to shoot!” – was Neach's command – “Is! You have no chance to get to the other side now” – he exclaimed, grabbing the younger Seidhe by the jacket. – “It's a suicide” – Neach's voice was strong and demanding, but it didn't change the reply:  
“So let it be. I'm not leaving her, fraere. Nor will I wait for her to be raped. Albert, follow me!”  
After that final order, Is was gone.

_Who is the mysterious woman? Who is she for him? Never mind._

They won without a single loss. It was a good fight and the red sun just started to rise. They were even able to tie two prisoners for interrogation. Near one of the tents, they found two tied women: a dh'oine girl and an Aen Seidhe – Ysmen got to them at once. All eight men, to whom they came for rescue, were more or less fine. He was heading in their direction, as he heard something he had never heard before and stopped in his tracks. Isengrim Faoiltiarna, known for his controlled and calm demeanour, lost it and was shouting at the woman, that he just saved.

_Lovers quarrel. He cares for her greatly, that is certain..._

“What have you been thinking?! Did you even consider how I would feel if I was too late?! If I found your violated, dead body?! Did you think about that before charging in with odds 6 to 1?! Have you lost your mind?!”  
“So sorry, proud Aen Seidhe, that I didn't consider YOUR FEELINGS while making a judgement call” – cold as ice, angry voice answered loudly. – “So sorry, that I would do it again, because we bought these two girls time and I still believe: better me than them. So sorry, that I didn't think about the FEELINGS of one impossibly possessive and controlling Scoia'tael commander before trying to save two lives, probably worth ten times more than mine. And you know what?” – she asked in a deeper and lower voice – “In the end, I wouldn't care what YOU feel or not, because I would be dead, wouldn't I?”  
Coinneach recognised the voice immediately, though, he had heard it for the last time three years ago.

_Fen._

He was staring at her when she looked his way. Many emotions were displayed on her face, which changed from furious to happy to confused. With this last emotion, she turned around - away from him and Isengrim - and headed to her men and the rest of Scoia'tael. Then, she greeted his commando and four Seidhe travelling with Isengrim warmly. She gave a short order:  
“Report! How are we?”  
“All alive” – was the answer from the crowd in front of her.  
“Good. Everyone, take everything we may need and we go as far from here as we can!”  
Everyone, including his men, followed. Without hesitation.

_Impressive. You grew into an impressive woman, Deithdaeg. Now I understand._

Neach approached Isengrim, who still haven't moved since her departure. He put a hand on the younger Seidhe shoulder, saying:  
“You are bleeding, Is.”  
“I know. And quite publicly.”  
“It wasn't a metaphor. Your arm.”  
“I know. We should make a camp somewhere. May they come, fraere? I know, that you know her, too.”  
Isengrim said the last sentence not looking in Neach's direction. Strange tension crept between the two men:  
“They are always welcome at my camp, fraere” – Neach said without any emotions in his voice, but he removed his hand from the younger Seidhe's shoulder and turned around to leave.

He decided to approach Fen here before getting ready for the road. He found her talking to both rescued women. She looked at him and approached him slowly.  
“Fen.”  
“Coinneach” – her voice was soft, much softer, than he remembered.  
“It was foolish” – he stated, but didn't scold her.  
“I know” – she agreed calmly – “but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had done nothing. They are unharmed, despite few bruises from the ropes” – she smiled in triumph. – “Thank you for the rescue. My men... I only regret risking their lives, but they would never let me go alone” – she said with a sad, but proud smile looking him in the eyes.  
“You are more than welcome, we still owe you.”  
“Nonsense, fraere.”

_So you want to establish our relation as platonic, again. It's Isengrim then. And he is not the only one to bleed today, but you will never say that out loud._

“Sor'ca. You and your Riders are welcome to journey with us. We will make camp near the river.”  
“Thank you. We are grateful and happy to accept.”  
He was travelling at the head with Fen. They were talking at length about their adventures during the last years. Like the last time, there were death and loss in her voice. Exactly like the last time, she spoke with no hope, but cold determination. He has never asked why.

After two hours, they found a clearing for the camp. The moment Fen got down from her horse, Isengrim was at her side. She looked at him with raised eyebrows and blank expression. Then, he smirked almost playfully and approached her. After a while, he put his hands on her hips and because she didnt protest, he moved them to her bottom, lifting her up to him.

_He came to claim her._

She gasped in shock at first but then, laughed and entangled her feet around his waist.  
On their way deeper into the forest, her jacket and shirt were already tossed and left behind. It was Albert, who followed and collected her clothing to put them next to the rest of the things, which they were unpacking. Coinneach was still standing and looking in the direction of the forest, when he said:  
“Possessive, it is the last thing I would say about him.”  
“Submissive” – Gareth, one of the Riders Coinneach remembered, added – “it is the last thing I would say about her.”  
They looked at each other, laughed and turned around to start making the camp.


	20. Isengrim Feainn 1266

ISENGRIM

 

Feainn 1266  
near the Ismena river  
Ellander

This was one of the times, when he was glad, that she wasn't the one to discuss her feelings. He knew, that he had no right to treat her like he did. He knew, that he crossed the line and by far. He even knew, that his emotions were suffocating her. But he was worried, so afraid to lose her. Too scared to control himself as he should have had.

_Well, it's not her feelings she doesn't want to discuss. It's mine. Congratulations... you already get you both in too deep. And there is no way out. She was right all those years ago – the harm, which will come of it, will be my fault and mine alone. But it was her, who found me after the attack. Who made sure I stay alive. Even if my face would never be... that is enough of the self-pity._

But right now, her nose and lips were touching his neck and she was biting him, hard. Her tongue was moving through his skin, leaving a trail until she started to suck on his earlobe, what caused him to moan. At the river bank, he put her down and looked in her eyes. She was still angry, but now it was desire, which was dominant - her pupils were almost black and a small crimson blush crept on her cheeks.  
They undressed and got quickly to the river: both dirty from travelling, sweaty and covered in blood. In the cold water, her nipples became even harder than before. They got out and started to kiss at the river bank. It was midday and someone may have walked in on them any time, but they didn't care. He knelt and pulled her to fell on the top of him. She was touching and kissing him and this time, her movements were different, as if she wanted to remember every inch of his body. But before he had time to analyse this change, she took him into her mouth, just for a short while – making him moan again – and crawled back to his face.  
Looking her in the eyes he turned them around to be on the top of her. With ease, he changed her position. One of her legs was lying flat on the ground and he was above it, with his knees on its both sides. The left leg was above the right, bent in the knee and stretched far up to the level of her stomach. Keeping her left leg with his left hand he used the other to touch her wet and stretched intimate parts. She was moaning out loud by then.  
“I love the way you make my body move exactly as you please” – the husky whisper escaped her lips.  
“Eryr... You are a seductive manipulator, did you know?” – he asked, leaning to her already close to entering her and touching her with the tip of his length.  
“Then, we are worth each other: pair made in the depths of hell” – she chuckled and looked him straight in the eyes as he entered her.  
In this position she couldn't move, their mating was controlled by him completely. And he could say, that she enjoyed it: allowing herself to be just a little bit submissive just for a while. Still, he was not expecting her soft plea:  
“Come first...”  
“What?”  
“For me. I want to watch you this time, while I'm still in my right mind...” – she gave him a cocky smile.  
After that statement and looking at this smile - he let go, as asked. After just a few more deep thrusts, he cum inside her. She was clenching around him already, close as she was to her relief. Stimulating her with his fingers he was still moving inside her until her body arched to him violently and she gasped. Her eyes were shut and crimson lips fell a little bit open. He tried to kiss her, but she put a hand on his chest. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, he slid out of her. With swift movements she released herself and sat up on his lap, with both legs around his waist and breasts touching his chest.  
Only then, she leaned for a deep, long kiss as one of her hands was pulling slightly by his hair and the other was keeping his jaw between thumb and index finger. A few moments later, she grabbed him gently, only to slowly lower her body on him. He gasped at the sensation, as she covered him completely. At first, she leaned a little bit back putting her palms behind her to help herself move up and down, but just before they both came again, she pulled him and clung to him closely with her head cuddled in his neck.

_You are a complicated woman, Eryr... running from me for such a long time, it is now that you clung to me so tight. That you want to be mine so completely._

When they laid down next to each other they spoke about trivia without any meaning. As was his custom, he was still touching her, half-lying on his side. She laid flat on her back, relaxed and tired. It was when she was talking about a wivern she and her Riders slain and got paid for a ridiculous amount of money, he pushed two fingers inside her entrance. She closed her eyes and arched to him slightly with a sigh. Then, he moved his hand, covered in her juices and his cum, and made a trail through her clitoris, womb and belly. She watched his face intently, while he was observing the trail his hand left. She chuckled and asked:  
“Possessive, aren't we today?” – with a focused expression.  
“Hmm...” – was all the answer she got.

 

Together they spent a few days in Coinneach's camp. The older Seidhe never said a word and after the first day, Isengrim didn't show his possessiveness and affection towards Eryr openly. But he didn't need to – they shared a tent – and while both tried to be respectful and control themselves, everyone knew what they were doing inside.  
Sometimes, he observed her interactions with Neach. They were close, touching each other accidentally with ease, but they never went beyond platonic behaviour. After a while, he realised as well, that Neach was the only man he knew, whom Eryr treated with unconditional respect and looked up to him. She never mocked him, was always polite and was tempering her tongue in his presence. It was Neach, who was allowed to discuss with her the event, which brought them all together and to sent her disappointed and worried glances at some of her stories. Things Isengrim knew, that he will never be allowed to say or do. But she was coming to him at night and it was enough.  
After a few days, all three groups went their separate ways but he looked for a long time in the direction she disappeared.


	21. Fen Lammas 1267

FEN

 

Lammas 1267  
Brokilon

 _The season is changing and the storm is coming slowly but surely. After Thanedd and with Aedrin, Lyria and Rivia occupied, there is not much hope for the North anymore..._  
_Why this is what I'm thinking about at the edge of Brokilon, knowing, that I will meet Isengrim tomorrow at the latest? I spend to much time with... fucking patriots. I wonder about politics in my free time, while I should be thinking about..._

The dryad came out of no where and greeted them:  
“You are lucky, that you were invited, dh'oine.”

_Nice, old-school race-shaming. I almost missed it._

“Ceád'mil, Brokiloéne. We came here to serve your Lady Eithné, at her bidding and we salute you.”  
“And serve you will, beanna” – the incredibly beautiful dryad with raven hair falling in curls said in a cold, cruel voice.  
“But we did not come here for your amusement, caed'hlaith” – with that, Fen passed the dryad calmly.  
“I'm to lead you to the Lady, you'll never find the way on your own” – the dryad mocked from behind her.  
“Let's bet. If I find the way on my own, I'll get to call you: saere and you'll call me and treat me as sor'ca. Deal?”  
The dryad looked at her with disgust, but said:  
“But if you get lost I will call you: varh'he - to the last of your days.”  
“Deal” – she replied lightly and the dryad disappeared.

 _I don't know why, but I feel the way. I know where to go._  
_“Follow the footsteps of your destiny, luned...” Oh, mum... How I miss you._

By the power beyond their understanding, she led them the right way, close to the centre of the forest, as far as they – dh'oine – could walk. The various Scoia'tael were greeting the Riders enthusiastically from the moment they've arrived. Five commanders, among them Iorveth and Isengrim, were waiting for them, too.  
The dryad, who found them at the edge of the forest, was dumbfounded. Behind her was standing an impressive woman with long silver hair - the Lady of the Forest. The raven-haired dryad came to Fen and said in a strong voice:  
“Sor'ca.”  
“Saere, will you tell me your name, now?” – was the reply.  
“Eymier.”  
“Honour to meet you, I'm Fen” – and she bowed her head with a small smile. Her gesture was returned.  
She moved forward. She bowed, dropping gracefully on one knee, followed by her man before addressing their host:  
“Lady Eithné.”  
“Rise, me wedd” – the Lady said with a warm voice – “you and your men are very welcome.”  
After the greeting, the silver-haired and silver-eyed lady took few steps ahead, looking Fen in the eyes and took her hand. The sensation almost knocked her out, some blurred visions were coming to her mind, voices from the past... But she stood her ground. The Lady only said in a commanding voice:  
“Your men are to stay on the outskirts. This is as far as they go. But you...” – she looked in her eyes again – “follow me inside, luned.”

They were walking for a while until they stood at the pool. The brook was coming out of it and flowing rapidly through the forest.  
“You want me to drink the waters of Brokilon?” – Fen asked unsure, judging right the Lady's expression.  
“Yes” – the unknown dryad came to both of them with a cup ornamented with runes in her hands.  
She gave it to Fen, who took it and started to shake.  
“What is that to what you cling so strongly? Don't you want to forget your past?” – hearing this question, she looked at the Lady in shock.

_She knows more than she reveals._

“Yes and no” – Fen replied with mixed feeling on her face and in her heart.  
The scent of the liquid was intoxicating. She took a deep breath and raised the cup to drink from it. When the liquid touched her lips, she shrieked and collapsed.

 _The sea was roaring near to them. She was sitting alone on the white beach, behind her was the white slope of the mountain. The scent of pines was everywhere. Few meters from her, on the tree, there were an owl and a kestrel. Looking intently at her._  


When she woke up, the face of Lady Eithné was the first thing she saw. She was asking:  
“What did you see in your vision?”  
“A life” – she answered still dazed.  
“What is your name? Do you remember?”  
“Fen and I remember everything. The vision...” – Fen started slowly. Hopeful? Confused? She wasn't sure herself...  
“Nothing is set in stone” – was the reply and Fen asked no more.

The Silver Lady of the Forest was looking intently at her. Hundreds of thought were on her mind. When she started, she said only:  
“The footsteps of destiny...”  
“What do you mean?” – Fen inquired.  
“He will not lose you to me, but to yourself” – was the cryptic answer.  
After that statement, they headed back to the rest.

 

Two days later, the morning sun was waking her up slowly. She felt Isengrim still breathing calmly, asleep, spooning her. She started to move gently, bushing against him. She felt him waking up and heard his sleepy voice:  
“Hmm... Is this the right morning?”  
“Yes, it is” – she smiled while answering.  
A second later his hand was already in her pants, stroking her gently. It took her body a while to wake up properly and to respond, but it did, eventually. He waited patiently, she knew that he was ready the moment he woke up...

_As always... Do I envy him that? Hmm... No..._

When she felt his fingers getting wet from her, she pushed her bottom slightly, bending a little, urging him to join her. And he did, eagerly sliding inside her. It didn't take them long to reach their peaks. Then, still inside her, he whispered:  
“You never take off this necklace.”  
After that - she froze, left him lying, put her pants back on and started to dress up. She didn't even look at him and a moment later, she left the tent.

_Well, me mienne. You fucked up. No more sex in the morning._

When they met at midday, both heading to eat something, he was cautious. But she already decided to forget the question and the whole morning and asked as nothing had happened:  
“Heading to eat?”  
“Yes” – he answered tensed, even irritated.  
He had the right to be angry. After all, she overreacted. So she pretended not to hear the irritated tune in his voice. They ate together, speaking of the things to do while they were both here, as if nothing had happened. After a while, Isengrim stated absent-mindedly:  
“So this is the last.”  
“What?” – she asked, unsure of what he meant. Suddenly, the strange feeling of doom was crushing down on her.  
“Of meat” – he added quickly with an reassuring smile – “we need to hunt. Nothing more, ma mienne.”  
She tried to smile back at him, but could not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christina Aguilera „Bound To You”


	22. Angus Lammas 1267

ANGUS

 

Lammas 1267  
Brokilon

They were all getting ready to leave in a few days. He got to know the Riders, the dh'oine living among the Scoia'tael and understood why they were so cherished. He sparred with all of them, including the only women among them – famous Fen – and appreciated their skills, strength and determination. They were challenging partners to exercise with. Moreover, they've never spoken too much about themselves and never asked questions like: are you going to fight for Nilfgaard? They were incredibly careful not to start any conversation, which may end with awkward silence. Still, they were there and their mere presence was lifting spirits somehow.

_If you are trapped, with no way out, pray for them to come and you may yet survive. But no promises have ever been made._

This is what Riordain said to him once and he remembered the saying well.  
Now, they were all sitting around the bonfire in the evening. Fen was leaned on Isengrim, but somehow still managed to look like a strong commander herself, even with him holding her so possessively.

_She has a secret. A dark secret._

But just right now, she tilted her head to kiss the Scoia'tael commander, soon to be a colonel and smiled at him fondly. Two of her men, Caden and Easbeth, were sitting in diverse positions with two dryads: Eymier and Aisling.

_They will leave deeper into the forest, soon..._

But no one was truly surprised. Both dh'oine had something of the Aen Seidhe in them. And only after a few days in their company, he already caught himself at thinking of all of them as the Scoia'tael.

_One of us. Yes and no, but close. They've spent years earning this trust. Suicidal or truly bored. Or... maybe they don't have anywhere to go, too. Homeless, travellers into the setting sun._

Iorveth, Ciaran, Tyne and Keavy were joking and making fun, as always in a bigger company. At one time, Iorveth almost undressed Tyne in the process. But they were not the only one to have fun: all of them drunk, danced and enjoyed the exceptionally warm and beautiful early night.

He observed as Fen went to get some wine, but was caught by Iorveth in the process and led to the improvised dance-floor. They were close, it was easy to see. But to Angus biggest surprise, Fen, despite her obvious to everyone else appeal, was the only person - of both sexes - Iorveth definitely didn't want to fuck.

_The boy is growing-up and Isengrim is too much of an older brother to him, the brother who claimed this woman so openly, that no one had any doubts as to possibility of sharing. It's not like they didn't share before... To be exact: all three of them spent an interesting evening with particularly skilled Aen Seidhe once. How long ago was it? Four? Maybe five years. But Isengrim's relationship with this woman is different._

Just when he thought about it, Fen left Iorveth and headed into the forest with Eymier and Aisling. She glanced back at Isengrim, who was standing up and did nothing but chuckle, going to get the drink on his own. With wine he approached Angus:  
“You are silent, fraere.”  
“Remembering.”  
“Oh... What?”  
“Whom... to be exact. I am thinking hard, though I'm not sure as to her name... Was it Damhnait?” – hearing this name Isengrim chuckled again.  
“The Seidhe from Troy. She had the most beautiful hair I've ever seen. This golden blond curls... “– the other Seidhe said in a dreamy voice, remembering something of his own.  
“As we are talking about women we fucked, where did Fen go?”  
“Where do you think, fraere?” – was Isengrim's reply. – “She knows well, that even though I'm a Seidhe, I cannot even think about her with another man. So, at least as far as I'm aware, she is faithful. But, I wouldn't deny her a play-time with women every now and then. She likes it and it keeps her feeling free, despite...”  
“The possessive way you hold her every time you can?” – Angus mocked him.  
“Yes” – his friend agreed with a grin.  
“So she is... what?” – Angus inquired further. But no reply came, while Isengrim was pondering, looking in the bonfire. – “Sorry, I shouldn't have asked” – he added.  
“No, Angus, it's not that” – Isengrim said slowly. – “She is the beginning, the middle and the end” – Angus looked at his friend with a deep shock on his face. – “But she will leave me one way or another and I already dread the day” – he continued in a sad voice.  
They both drunk and said no more. There was nothing left to say.

After an hour, Fen came back, went to her men and gave them directions where she left the dryads. Surly wet and naked, waiting for them. Then, she scanned the crowd and finding Isengrim sitting next to him, she approached:  
“May I?” – she asked politely.  
“Obviously” – Angus answered.  
He watched her while she touched gently Isengrim's face: a simple gesture of care, of devotion. Then, she moved a little bit from him, stealing his glass of wine. She was still within his reach, but his friend left her alone, all the time smiling at her fondly.

The scene, in general, was idyllic. Everyone was still partying, some were leaving into the forest. But, just when Caden and Easbeth started to walk in the direction of the forest, another dryad – Gaelyenne – came running. The silence fell immediately. Then she spoke:  
“The forest is surrounded. There is no way out. Similar news is coming from all posts: Redanians, Temerians and even men from Cidaris are here.”

_We are to report in Cintra in a week and there is no way to get there. Well..._

All the commanders were called to the bonfire and they started to plan. But no plan was good for this situation and they couldn't afford to lose men, not even one. It was Fen who spoke and to everyone's surprise, all commanders shut up the moment she started:  
“There is an easy solution to most of your problems. I will ride out with my men, making a hole in their ranks and because we look like Scoia'tael, they will chase us like mad dogs. This will allow you to ride out with your men. But you'll have only a short window of time, no more than an hour. You must be ready to move quickly.”  
Fen spoke calmly and in details. When she ended, dead silence fell on all of them. Angus looked at Isengrim's horrified face.

_Your nightmare is here sooner than expected, fraere..._

But Isengrim spoke nothing. He just shrunk, bowed his head and waited.  
“Sor'ca...” – it was Iorveth who dared, but she didn't let him.  
“Well, my dear fraere. It's not me, who needs to go – it's you. It's not me, who have grand plans – it's you. And now, we all know, that there is no stepping back: you must go, or you'll pay the price. I'll make sure, that you'll have a chance at survival. In the process, we'll take down as many of them as we can. But we all know, that from this moment you are on your own. There will be no miracles anymore” – she ended with a dark laughter.

_A true Aen Seidhe laughs in the face of death._

Angus remembered his father saying that to him long ago. But he was wrong.

_A true warrior accepts death with laughter, but still fights to the end._

And a true warrior was standing in front of him right now in the petite form of the dh'oine woman.  
They all agreed. Isengrim and Fen disappeared soon after, while all the men gathered in Brokilon were preparing to escape.

After a few hours, Isengrim found him. He looked like a ghost of himself, but his voice was steady:  
“She and the Riders are at the outskirts. Do me a favour and go with your men to make sure she's fine before... she rides out. We already... And Iorveth... Well, he is barely holding on, so I cannot ask this from him.”  
“Obviously, fraere” – Angus heard himself answering. – “See you on the other side of Yaruga!” – he nodded to his friend, turned around and got to his palomino horse, followed by his men.

 

Half an hour later, he was standing next to his horse, watching intently the twelve Riders and their commander preparing to ride for the last time, while he was thinking about the first time he saw her:

 _This woman is indeed beautiful. Not a Seidhe, but still close enough: familiar but exotic at the same time. She has quite long auburn hair and pale complexion, proud and slender body with ripe curves at breasts and bottom. Well, Is... now I'm inclined to get it._  
_He only half-listened to the conversation, but at the last words, he stared at her with wide eyes._

  
_Was she just invited deeper into Brokilon?_

  
_Every dryad and Aen Seidhe looked at each other with surprise after Fen, or Eryr as Isengrim tend to call her, followed Eithné towards the centre of the forest. Isengrim looked shocked and worried, but didn't say a word. The Lady's word was a law here._

  
_Will the girl emerge as a dryad herself?_

  
_In the meantime, he decided to occupy Isengrim with making him introduce Angus to the newcomers – the Riders. Dh'oine they may be, but from what he has heard - special kind of their race._

 

Today, he knew more. Exceptional they were, indeed, going to certain death with no expressions whatsoever displayed on their faces. Proud and tall like ghosts on this foggy morning.

He pondered and said:  
“We will meet again, Fen. One day, where the apple-trees bloom - we all meet again.”  
After that, she smiled at him and orderd to her men:  
“Riders! Adhart!”

_Ichaerll'hael... Baptism of blood..._

With a battle-cry the Riders and their commander emerged from Brokilon. At least a hundred soldiers in dark-blue coats with white lilies on their banners chased them almost immediately.

_To their death. But before they go, they will take as many as they can with them._


	23. Isengrim Imbaek 1268

ISENGRIM

 

Imbaek 1268  
near Brenna  
Temeria

 

He was watching the battlefield calmly. After receiving a short order from marshal Menno Coehoorn, he came back to his Brigade, to his Vrihedd. He mounted his horse and turned around to face his men:  
“We are to ride between Redanians and Temerians. We are going to bleed them as much as we can and they are going to pay... for everyone we lost, for everything they did.”  
His men shouted - more than eager to follow him to battle, again. Still, he remained calm:  
“But first things first. We can reach them from here, can't we?” – he turned his horse and shouted:  
“Vrihedd, spar'le!”  
The arrows flew, sounds they made in the air could be heard everywhere. And dh'oine were falling dead one by one.

 

_Lammas 1267_  
_Brokilon_

_They were walking quietly through the forest. He was holding her hand, but Fen didn't look at him. When they were far enough not to hear the hustle from the bonfire and rushed packing, she turned to him and cupped his face. Then, she looked at him and kissed him, dragging him down on the top of her. Her scent and her skin were everywhere for him and she was everything to him. They undressed in a hurry, longing for each other's touch too much and too hard, too soon and too fast._  
_They made love under the stars glittering in the cloudless sky that night. He was as close to her as he could, clinging to her while they moved together. He looked her in the eyes, waiting for the cold light enlightening them when she came with his name on her lips. They stayed entangled for a long time as he was still inside her. She was trembling as was he, though they didn't cry. After a time, she pushed him gently and straddled him. Taking him inside her again, she pulled his upper body up to her to feel as much of him as she could. They looked each other in the eyes for a long time, but then she hid herself in the small of his neck again: trembling from climax. She was hidden like that for a while, but when she looked at him again, there was no trace of tears._  
_They laid together, touching with as much skin as they could, while both looked up in the sky. It was then, as she spoke:_  
_“There is no fear, me mienne, when you know how the story ends. And ours, as all the tales of the Aen Seidhe, was doomed before it started. It must end in blood, fire and death. But it is the memory and the sorrow, that lingers. Our story will be yours very soon and I want you to have good memories before I go into this morning. No good or gentle, but still it will come to an end for me. But not for you. Our lives are but a dream... But you have a fight ahead and men, who will follow you, as mine will follow me today, to the end. And maybe, just maybe, one day our story will turn into a legend. The wolf and the eagle, lost in the whispers of Brokilon forever. And you, me mienne, you will live, cause I saw a life in your future...”_  
_“Eryr...” – he started, overwhelmed completely by her words, but she interrupted:_  
_“No, Is” – she looked smiling at him, catching his chin between her thumb and index finger. – “You will live long after I'm gone and you won't regret a single moment. Nor will you mourn. You will fight for everything that you know, that is good in this world and for every man, that you care for. And remember, I promise you, we'll meet again, where the apple-trees bloom – a long time from now – and I'll ask you if you did. I promise, me mienne, I will wait for you.”_  
_He held her like she was his last hope, his life-line, his sun and stars. And she was to fade, soon. Some time later, they got up and headed back. She didn't go to the bonfire, but said:_  
_“I'm going to the outskirts to meet my men” – she gave him a chaste kiss. – “Va fail!”_  
_And she was gone. He heard the neigh of horses coming from the direction, where she disappeared._

 

It became quiet around him, despite the neigh of horses, which brought him back to reality. Only then, Isengrim unsheathed his sword and moved to bind his seal-brown stallion.  
“For Eryr” – he whispered and rode in the direction of Redanian eagles and Temerian lilies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hans Zimmer „Time”


	24. Jon Velen 1268

JON

 

Velen 1268  
Drakenborg  
Redania

Just before they entered the fortress, he shook Coinneach Da Réo's hand and said:  
“It was an honour, commander.”  
“Likewise, general Natalis.”

Jon stood there for a long while, watching him disappear behind the gate of the Drakenborg Prison.

_To whatever end... I was following orders for my entire life and this one, this last duty, was the hardest._

With that thought he turned around to see a silhouette of no other but Vernon Roche, who spoke in a quiet voice:  
“They would hate us even more if they knew what we feel right now.”  
“Yes. Pity is not the feeling Aen Seidhe want to cause.”  
“Is that what you feel, Jon?”  
“No... It's the deepest sadness, that I hadn't met him before... that I didn't even try to understand or to think about their lives, their future and perspective. That I did not care.”

Roche looked at him curiously. There was something unfamiliar in his gaze.  
“If so, meet me in a week at Montecalvo.”  
The other man passed Jon and opened the gate. Jon stood there for a while, deep in his thoughts, then he walked away.


	25. Iorveth Saovine 1269

IORVETH

 

Saovine 1269  
the Ravine of the Hydra  
Kestrel Mountains

They've spent two days in Drakenborg. He even met one of his man, trapped half a year ago, who was barely alive. There were dwarfs, Seidhe and even some humans, all kept in inhumane conditions: tortured, starved, raped, name it... When Vernon Roche suggested executing them all (including the ones, who had been kept as prisoners before the officers of the Vrihedd came) at the Ravine of the Hydra – Iorveth almost laughed.

_Fucking bastard._

But then, he pondered.

_At least not here..._

So, for the last part of their journey, up to the mountains, they were joined by more non-humans awaiting execution. Most of them for the simplest crime of all: for being non-humans. He realised, that at least he, himself, knew why they wanted him dead. He earned it, fighting dh'oine for the last six years. Most of his companions on this way, did not.  
He slept his last night unshackled. The escort decided, that in the narrow mountain pass they have no where to run and they were right. At least this humiliation ended. At dawn, he could hear a starling sing and a tit calling from afar, soon they were joined by ravens gathering not far from where they camped. Sun-rays, already piercing and almost cold at this time of the year, were emerging from behind the mountains. For the last few days, it was warm and even now, so early in the morning, he could feel a warm wind blowing from the South.

_Haf Bruyère... Indian Summer... Last of the summer. How suitable... Tedd Cumha... Time of nostalgia... and for us – the time to go._

After a few minutes, they emerged to a flattening, cut in half by the infamous Ravine of the Hydra. They called the place Pádraig Solaris, due to the beautiful colours the sun-rays were having here. He didn't know, if the dh'oine had a similar name for the place.

 

 _Lammas 1266_  
_woods near Flotsam_  
_Aedrin_

 _He was sitting on a thick branch, comfortably leaned on a tree trunk. The tree he chose stood on the edge of a small meadow hidden deep in the forest. He was playing his flute – one of the tunes he still remembered from his family home. On the other side of the clearing, he noticed the male silhouette of Ciaran aep Easnillen, coming in his direction. He was incredibly beautiful even for a Seidhe with mahogany eyes and dark-brown hair: young and charming beyond compare. He stopped under the tree and started:_  
_“You are in a strange mood this fine morning, fraere...”_  
_“And why is that?” – Iorveth asked with a smirk._  
_“It's shortly after dawn and you are already on the branch with a flute in your mouth” – Ciaran joked, teasingly, with a huge grin on his face._  
_“You are right” – Iorveth replied chuckling. – “And what is your poison today, fraere?”_  
_“You” – the younger Seidhe answered._  
_The commander didn't need more encouragement. He jumped to the ground and neared to the other Seidhe. He slipped his hand to Ciaran's hair and entangled his fingers in them. Then, he tugged the dark-brown hair to tilt the younger Seidhe head before kissing him violently, fiercely. Ciaran submitted to his demanding hands and lips eagerly. They both knew, that Iorveth loved as he lived: taking what he wanted as he wanted it._  
_When they made love on the floor of grass, the sun was rising gradually and dozens of forests birds were waking up one by one. It was a morning to remember, indeed..._

 

He was woken from his memories by the voice of Galel, the former Nilfgaardian officer, now treated by them all as a Scoia'tael, but Vicovarian by birth:  
“Iorveth! They are back...” – he said with resignation.  
The boy was right, the Death Squad arrived – men who were following them from Dillingen all the way up here, as a constant reminder of their fate: masked, black and silent. Ready to earn their living by executing about fifty prisoners. He waited for the order to move closer to the Ravine's edge, so that when they die, pierced by arrows, they would fall to the chasm on their own.

_Or maybe they want to make sure first, that we are dead? There is no scaffold, so they will need to slit our throats..._

“May I ask for a glass of water?” – this absurd question was posed by no other, but their leader, their colonel: Isengrim Faoiltiarna.

_Is, seriously?_

But like many others, he chuckled. He heard the story of Ulfric Stormcloak, who survived his execution, because after he asked for a glass of water the dragon attacked the town he was to be hanged in. This gave him a chance to escape his fate.

_Five minutes, which can change it all..._

“You remembered...” – the voice, which came from one of the masked members of the Death Squad, made him shiver. He wanted to laugh, cry and scream at the same time. From the corner of his eye (the only one he was left with after the battle of Brenna) he saw Isengrim freezing and his hands started to shake slightly.  
“Death” – whispered Galel.  
Then she removed the hood and the mask, revealing her medium-cut auburn hair, beautiful and pale face and the piercing blue-grey eyes.  
“Yes” – she answered slowly – “Ysbryds, the Death Squad. We have many names, my dear Vicovarian. But today, we are the Riders and we have other plans for all of you. That includes you, as long as you'll follow my orders better than you followed your last commanding officer” – she replied looking at the boy, whose face was an illustration of confusion.  
They all removed hoods and masks... Caden, Albert, Gareth and nine others. Some known to them for years. And at the end, general Jon Natalis, with a smile on his face approaching also smiling Vernon Roche. When Iorveth met his eyes, Roche stated in a stern voice:  
“Remember this place. This is where you have died. Since now, you are ghosts and you must disappear. Your bodies have already been cast into the chasm” – the dh'oine motioned to the edge of the Ravine and Iorveth took few steps to look inside.  
Burned bodies of about forty Aen Seidhe, some dwarfs and dh'oine were cast into the chasm. He looked back at Roche with a question in his eyes. The other man said:  
“They were already dead from various reasons not dependent from us, when we brought them here. It was not an easy task, so do not irritate me, Squirrel” – he snarled.

He looked at Isengrim, who was still standing and staring at the woman, who they both knew and believed to be dead. Who they both loved and lost. The one who probably betrayed them or, even worse, has never been true to them. But he didn't care. Iorveth took a few steps towards Fen and she met him halfway, hugging him closely:  
“Sor'ca...”  
“Fraere...”  
She smiled at him and let him go. Then, she moved towards Isengrim with uncertainty, almost shyly. But when she stood in front of him, he touched her face as if he still didn't believe, that she is truly alive. Only then, he smiled widely, leaning in, pulling her towards him and kissed her like it was the first and the last time he held her in his arms.

The great golden bird, which was circling above their heads, cried in happy voice and then, glided South-East, disappearing from their sights.


	26. Dandelion Savoine 1273

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, belong to their authors or legal successors.

 

THE AEN SEIDHE TALES

 

PART II

 

Ghost, Raven, Daughter, Marquess

 

DANDELION

 

Savoine 1273  
the Kingfisher Inn  
Free City of Novigrad

_I would like to lie and say, that with the enemy hordes defeated she flew off into the sunset. I would love to tell you all this lies to entertain, move, instruct and terrify. But I am a poet and I have my duties._

~ from Matters of Conscience by Michał Gałek


	27. Fen Savoine 1272

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers!  
> You can find the map in the last chapter.

FEN

 

Savoine 1272  
Elskerdeg Pass  
the Fiery Mountains

The snow was covering every road and every stone on their way. It was an early morning after freezing night. They were prepared for the way, but still the freezing was more than she bargained for. Much, much more. The cold wind was blowing constantly just changing directions: in the face, from behind and in the face again.

_White... white everywhere. And walking is almost impossible._

Knee deep in the snow, they were floundering. Iorveth was just behind her and she could hear his heavy breathing.

_Well, well... put Aen Seidhe into the snow and nothing would remain of their famous quiet movements, almost undetectable footsteps. He yearns for trees..._

But as far as the horizon was, there was no tree just stones, mountain slopes and snow.

_We should probably have chosen a better time of the year to venture the Pass like... Lammas. But no, we were in a hurry... Or maybe not anymore... It's over, after all. Does it matter?_

After a few hours of walking, they saw a view on the other side of the mountains: the plateau Pyll Bredh, then further to the East the wasteland Hapësirë-Boshe and famous dessert Shkretètirë-e-Natë, leading to Zerrikania in directions South and South-East. But they were heading exactly East, through the impassable wilderness to the borders of Haarkland.  
It was the third time in her life as she ventured this road. The first time was the one she remembered the fondest. She and her parents were led by two Zerrikanian female-warriors, who were training with her on the way, and Villentretenmerth, known to her then as Borch Three Jackdaws.

 

_Feainn 1256_  
_Elskerdeg Pass_  
_the Fiery Mountains_

_“You are following the footsteps of your destiny”._  


_“Ah!” – she shrieked as she woke up from her dream. She was with her parents in a tent and they were still peacefully asleep. But these birds..._  
_She walked out from the tent and the man, who was travelling with them always in a company of two Zerrikanian warriors, was already standing there. The man she called uncle, though he was more a friend of her parents, than her uncle by blood._  
_“The dream again...” – Borch started, seeing her face. She liked him, she trusted him._  
_“Yes. Two birds: an owl and a kestrel. Looking intently at me. Then the voice: “You are following the footsteps of your destiny”. The voice coming seemingly from the talking phoenix, circling above the white bay. It's the same since we've left” – she said angrily._  
_“Was there anything new?”_  
_“The wolf, the fox and the panther. I saw them from afar... Approaching me... As always. No, I don't think so.”_  
_“Which one did you choose this time?” – Borch inquired with curiosity in his voice._  
_“What?” – she looked at him strangely. – “None of them.”_  
_“And what happened?”_  
_“The same. The phoenix burned and everything went aflame. Only the voice remained. Whatever I choose, the end is the same... What does it mean, uncle?”_  
_“It's not them, it's you...” – he said with strange pride in his voice. – “It doesn't matter which one you choose or if you make a choice at all. You are the sun and you will light the way.”_  
_“What do you mean...?”_  
_“One day you'll be standing right here and looking as we look now - at the horizon. And you'll understand” – her uncle said mysteriously and smiled fondly at her._

_They were standing in silence for a time. After a long while, her father and mother emerged from the tent smiling widely. Coming closer, her father said to her:_  
_“You left a long while ago. Is everything all right, my little flower?”_  
_“And what were you doing after I left, if you were not asleep?” – she replied with a question of her own. With a wide, cocky smile._  
_“Ahem...” – her father answered, looking with adoration at her beautiful mother. Both chuckled, but said nothing, obviously. – “Come, I'll show you the map” – he continued as nothing had happened and motioned to the scroll he had in his hand._

_They sat down at the mountain shelf, from their spot there was a great view on the lands on the Eastern side of the Fiery Mountains. She looked at the map and listened to deep and strong, but soothing and incredibly warm voice of her father. She looked at his face. He was still a handsome man, even though his almost black hair were already laced with silver in some places. His eyes were dark grey like melted lead._  
_He put his right arm over her shoulder, hugging her closely and started:_  
_“So, down from the mountains' slopes, there is a Plateau Spruce Forest, called Pyll Bredh, but there are not many spruces there anymore. It ends with the Lonely Stone, known here as Gur-i-Vetmuar. Beyond, there is a famous Dessert of the Night, Shkretètirë-e-Natès, which goes mostly to the South and South-East. But, we will go straight East through the Wastelands: Hapësirë-Boshe. They end with Fundi-i-Stuhire, the Storm's End. Then, there is the first great river: Shiny River, which is called Lumë-me-Shkëlqim. The river opens the Great Sea of Grass – Deti-i-Barit, which is closed by the second – Swift River, known as Lumë-i-Shpejtë. And beyond...” – she interrupted:_  
_“Bregdetit-të-Bardhë, the White Harbor at Deti-i-Safir, the Sapphire Sea and hidden in the shadows of the Mountains of the Sun, Mallet-e-Diellit.”_

_When she said that, she noticed her mother approaching: her impressive slender and tall figure was graced by long auburn hair and impossibly beautiful face, with piercing blue-grey eyes. But the most impressive were two swords crossed at her back and two long, Seidhe made bows in her hands. She smiled at her husband and daughter and said:_  
_“I know it's fascinating, but I'm bored, my dears. My sweet daughter, come. It's time for training. You still need to learn a lot about archery.”_  
_“Coming, mum” – she answered._  
_She jumped from the shelf and run lightly to her mother, kissing her chastely on the cheek and taking from her one of the bows, the one with double-arc, on her way._

 

She was back from her fond memories of childhood, which maybe wasn't perfect but still as happy as it could be. Much, much happier than most. She was sitting now on the same shelf with Iorveth at her side. Both were looking pensively far to the East. He started:  
“So, you are inh'eid. Your mother is an Aen Seidhe and your father is a dh'oine.”  
“Yes and no. They both were...” – she said feeling a single tear-drop rolling down her cheek.

Iorveth glimpsed at her, but quickly averted his gaze. They were sitting in utter silence, as they heard voices from afar.  
“Nilfgaardians” – he said. – “Let's hunt. It will raise your spirit” – he added with a dangerous smirk.  
She gave him a quick almost smirk and followed in the direction of the voices.

They encircled the slope and after a few steps, they saw a bonfire and five Nilfgaardians in armour. They could kill them with ease. But both Iorveth and Fen froze, listening to their conversation:  
“My wife gave birth by now. And I'm here - in this god's forsaken place, on patrol” – said one of them.  
“And we'll probably be late for the harvest. Again... What our wives and families will do? Fucking soldiers' life...” – said the second.  
“But, at least, we didn't need to kill anyone” – said the third.  
“Thankfully, but do not praise a day before the sunset” – said the second again.  
“Let's sing to that” – said the fourth.  
_“I saw the light fade from the sky, on the wind I heard a sigh, as the snowflakes cover my fallen brothers...”_ – they all started to sing.

Fen and Iorveth hummed involuntarily and after the soldiers finished singing, they turned around and went on their way. No killing today. The soldiers were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, they didn't deserve to die.


	28. Vernon Birke 1260

VERNON

 

Birke 1260  
Acorn Bay  
Temeria

In the North-Western part of the kingdom, there was a town called Acorn Bay. There was a port, a rich port in the delta of Pontar, but you would never say that from the look of it. He wasn't sure if it was a lack of care for beauty or a lack of taste, but the town was a mess. Every house looked differently and despite being clean, the streets were not welcoming.  
But for him, it didn't matter in the slightest. He had very little care for beauty and aesthetics. He preferred to think, that the inhabitants were simply too busy to pay any attention to trivia: with their jobs and making money like he was now himself. Not with making money, but with working and more specifically, talking to his informant. He was just a soldier, but he already proved to be useful during some special missions. Thus, he was now on a top-secret mission – the first on his own and it went so well, that even he was shocked.  
To celebrate, he went to a tavern – Salty Wife it was called and, what was easy to guess by its name, was full of mariners and pirates. It stunk but, what did you expect from a tavern? He sat alone and soon, young and very pretty girl came to him:  
“What can I bring for you?” – she asked with slight Redanian accent.  
“A beer and fish and chips, please” – he ordered.  
“I'm on my way” – she said and smiled.  
When she came back and put his order on the table, she leaned down a little bit and a necklace slipped from her, nicely-shaped, cleavage. For a second he wasn't sure, what interested him more: the ripe breasts or the necklace with a mate, blue gemstone, but soon he decided:  
“An interesting necklace.”  
“Thank you” – she replied not sparing him a glance.  
“Family heirloom?” – he asked with curiosity.  
“No, I got it from my fiancé” – she answered quickly.  
“And having a man, who can afford that jewellery, why do you work in a place like this? Why do you work at all?”  
“We have numerous families and we are saving for the wedding” – another quick reply came from pretty lips of the waitress.

_Too quick..._

“And the date is set...?” – he trailed off asking his question.  
“Half a year from now.”  
“Summer wedding, very nice” – he was continuing.  
“I know, thank you” – she turned around when he added:  
“A young bride-to-be would know, that she is planning an autumn wedding.” – She stopped in her tracks and turned back, asking in poorly concealed shock:  
“What?”  
“Half a year from now would be autumn. So either you don't know what season your wedding is going to be or you don't know when” – he stated matter-of-factly.  
“Sorry, I'm so busy tonight...” – she was confused, but smart enough to leave and walk away rolling her hips to distract him.

_You would be a great spy. Just work on lying and you can fool anyone. And with that body of yours... You're not, who you claim to be, little waitress._

He couldn't forget the girl. Her demeanour, something in her was... Hard to say. But he left the tavern late at night, either way. When he was in a narrow gateway, two figures approached him from the front and two from behind.

_Fuck! I was right, the mission went to easily, I should have known better..._

Then, out of no where, four arrows were shot and the aim of the archer was perfect. Four bodies fell to the ground. The hooded figure got to him and he recognised the voice, which spoke surprisingly steadily:  
“Follow me.”  
So he did, curious. It was stupid, but he couldn't stop himself. She led him to the docks and to one of the warehouses there. It was empty. Then, she closed the door.  
“Why did you ask those questions?” – she inquired, aiming an arrow at his face.  
“At first... I truly don't know” – he replied – “but then... I thought, that you could be a good spy.”  
“I'm not a spy” – she replied with confusion in her voice.  
“I know, but you could be.”  
“How?”  
“Do you want to be?”  
“Yes, anything but working in that cursed tavern” – she said angrily.  
“Come with me to Wizima and we'll think” – he said matter-of-factly.

At that, the arrow flew next to his ear, cutting it lightly.  
“Wh...?!” – he screamed in horror.  
“I'm not going with you, you sick son of a bitch. You are not fucking me like a whore, for a blurred promise of a different life” – she said in a strong, cold voice. Like ice. True ice.  
“I've never planned to” – he answered honestly. Then, he thought for a moment before revealing the truth, but this girl... she fascinated him too much to let her go:  
“My name is Vernon Roche. And I am, officially, a corporal in the second Temerian infantry. Unofficially, I run some special missions.”  
“Why are you telling me that?” – she half-asked half-stated.  
“I told you: I see a potential in you and I want you to work for us.”  
“I agree to go with you, but if you touch me...”  
“I won't, I swear.”  
“Where are we going?”  
“Don't you want to take something from your home before...?”  
“I have no home. I slept in the tavern. I have everything I need with me, already” – and she said no more.

He was silent for a long while. Then, he spoke again:  
“I told you my name. What is yours?”  
“Elia.”  
“Is it real?”  
“Obviously.”  
“Can you react to it, even in danger or taken by surprise.”  
“I can.”  
“How can you be so sure?”  
“I'm always sure and my aim is always true. This is how I survived” – she said in a strong voice with finality to it.

Their road was pleasant enough. She was truly used to living like that, homeless, on the path. They told each other some stories, but he doubted if even half of hers were true. One time, on the road, he rode behind her and out of no where called:  
“Elia!”  
And she turned around, immediately. He grinned at her, pleased with the result of his little test. She was right. He liked the girl, immensely and he looked forward to working with her.


	29. Fen Imbaelk 1261

FEN

 

Imbaelk 1261  
Brugge  
Brugge

The last snow of the year was falling graciously and melting quickly. Brugge was magical at this time of the year. The trees were bare and elegant, slender and prideful. It was not colourful, yet, but still, the town was exceptional itself. With two-floor houses made of red and grey bricks and canals floating next to some of the streets - it was impressive. The Pearl of the West they called it and she was inclined to agree.  
But she was not there for the sightseeing. The man, she came here for, was just leaving his post to go to a brothel, as always on Thursdays. He needed to go through a narrow gateway topped with ornamented arcs made of grey bricks. But first, she would see him on the bridge.

_There you are._

From her location on one of the arcs, she was almost invisible for him, as her back was pressed closely to the wall of one of the houses. When he was a dozen meters in front of her, she shot an arrow through his eye. He was dead on a spot. Then, she moved to the roof of the house and disappeared into the night.

_He was just a soldier, who had seen too much of Maria Louisa La Valette, too close to the king... He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and he died for it... But an order is an order._

The next day she planned to leave the town as soon as possible. At dawn, she was walking through the streets to the Western gate. On the way, she crossed the market-square, where the scaffold was prepared with three gallows. Execution. The man, looking like a town-official was reading the sentences while prisoners were led to their final way:  
“Caden, the lord's hunter, for stealing the game from Baron Hotternox” – a young man with short brown hair walked in silence.

_In a free translation: for not giving up everything he caught, probably to feed his family..._

“Easbeth aep Ladaren...” – the official continued and was interrupted by the prisoner himself, another young and incredibly handsome man, with short, dishevelled pale blond hair:  
“Laedarien” – after that comment, he was bitten with a lash. Hard.  
“For raping a young lady, daughter of an honourable member of our community” – the official continued.  
“Who was begging me for more afterwards...” – another comment and this time few hits of a lash, which sent him to his knees, could be heard. But he got up.

_Again, in a free translation: for having consensual sex with a dh'oine while being an inh'eid himself. What a crime..._

“Unknown, for an attempt at stealing five swords from the armoury” – the last man was a raven-haired tall and proud ,pure-blooded Aen Seidhe. While walking, he was limping, probably he was tortured or broke his leg during the attempted stealing.

_Or both._

She scanned her surroundings more out of a habit than planning anything, at first. There were no civilians, despite the official and only three soldiers guarding the prisoners.

_Not many... The guards at the city gate will be changing shift shortly, so there is a short window of time... But it's not my business..._

And then, her eyes met with those of the first of the prisoners. Caden. They were so blue... like a sky in spring. And they were innocent. Not only of his crime, obviously. But they were truly innocent, so unlike her own.

_And he is probably my age... He even looks like a virgin..._

With that final thought, she reached for her bow. No one had time to react. In a matter of minutes, all guards and the town-official were dead. She ran to the guards to fish out the keys and three swords. Then, she was unshackling all prisoners and giving them weapons, while ordering in a sharp voice:  
“Caden, Easbeth help him walk” – she motioned the Aen Seidhe, whose face was one of utter shock.  
“He will slow us down” – Easbeth said angrily. She looked at him sharply and barked:  
“You are slowing me down and here we are. Do as I said, now.”  
There was no other resistance and they went through the gateway and narrow street to stand close to the town-gate. The guards were standing about twenty meters from them, busy talking, while changing shift.  
“Now, go casually, but with speed” – she said.

_What was I thinking? Stupid..._

But, they were incredibly lucky. No one even noticed their passing and few steps later, they were in the forest. It was the Aen Seidhe, who spoke with difficulty:  
“I'll lead you, go between these trees” – he motioned the direction North-West.  
“To Brokilon. Good plan for you, not so much for us” – she replied coldly.  
“We are three days from Brokilon. We'll debate on the way” – he said looking at her sternly.  
“Agreed” – was her final answer.  
After that, she whistled in high tune and the blood-bay mare was at her side. The Aen Seidhe sat in a saddle and the rest walked.

They were walking for the whole day, neither speaking nor eating. When they got to deep bushes, late in the evening, she ordered:  
“We need food and camp. Caden, Easbeth: help him from the horse and go find some food.”  
After the Seidhe sat down, she added:  
“You, hunter, take my bow” – she said and gave him her favourite weapon.

_One of the few things I was able to take from home before..._

“If you disappear with this bow I'll hunt you down and you'll wish, that you have never been born. Understood?” – she added in a voice, which made everyone certain, that she would carry out her thread. But she didn't need to add that.  
“I have no where to go” – Caden said calmly. – “And I owe you my life” – he continued.  
“Me too” – said Easbeth pondering – “and you leave no one behind” – he glanced at the Seidhe, now sitting few meters from them. – “I think, that we are staying with you whether you like it or not. However, I don't even know your name” – he said looking her in the eyes.  
“And for a long time, you won't” – she replied with finality to her voice.  
At that, Caden smiled and said:  
“Yes, Ma'am” – and they were both gone into the forest.

_I was always travelling alone, but to have companions... A squad, a commando. It may be a good change. Such a pity... I would never fuck my subordinates and I could have had them both... Well, priorities..._

They came back shortly, carrying two birds and Caden started to prepare them to roast them in the small fire, she had made while waiting for their return. But Easbeth was strangely quiet and still had a sword in his hand. The sword was covered in blood. When he looked at her, he said:  
“There were two poachers... close to this location... I had no choice...” – his voice broke.  
“Good decision” – she said reassuringly – “but I know, that it's hard to kill for the first time. It shall be” – she added with no emotion whatsoever in her voice. – “You still can leave me and go your own way” – she added.  
“No” – he shook his head – “I'd rather stay.”  
Easbeth sat down and remained silent for the rest of the evening.

 

The three of them grew close soon, but the Seidhe was distant. The last afternoon before Brokilon she trusted them enough to reveal her name: Fen. The two man talked a lot about what brought them there and about their lives, but the Seidhe was mostly quiet and distanced, but not unpleasant, either. In the evening, he sat with them and said:  
“You are a strange dh'oine... You saved my life and didn't ask for anything in return. And you brought me here - to the outskirts of Brokilon, the only place I can heal - knowing the risk. Let me do something for you in return” – he said mysteriously.  
Then she heard it. Footsteps and a few of them. They were encircled... She froze at once.

_Fuck! Dryads! We are dead..._

But the Seidhe spoke calmly:  
“N'aen aespar. They are with me.”

After he spoke, four dryads emerged from the forest. They conversed with the Seidhe in Brokilonian dialect and she didn't understand everything, but she understood enough to know, that they would live to see another day. Three of the dryads, younger than the one talking, were looking curiously at Caden and Easbeth, while the fourth was speaking with the Seidhe in a quiet voice.  
“Inh'eid” – one of the curious young dryads said to her companion.  
“They are” – Fen stated.

Then the Seidhe spoke to her:  
“The dryads will spare you all: for me and for themselves. But you have a debt to pay to them. Your men are to go into the forest for a while...” – he smirked, his expression was playful and mocking, especially when he glanced at Caden.  
She didn't expect this turn of events, but said:  
“It's not as if we had a choice or as if they asked for too much” – though Caden's face was definitely nervous.  
“Come, virgin. It will be fun” – Easbeth said and pulled the other man by the jacket. Soon, they were gone deep into the forest with four dryads.

The Seidhe looked at her pensively before he started to speak again:  
“My name is Yaevinn. I'm fighting humans in these parts for a while now. You saved me and you deserve to know, that many of your race will die because of that.”  
“It's you, who brought the race into this” – Fen answered in a voice cold as ice. – “I wanted to save them” – she motioned to the forest – “but it would be cruel to leave you there, while I could save a life, not so unlike my own.”  
“You have the eyes of the murderer. I know, I have looked into them. And you judge yourself a sinner, too” – she didn't reply to this, staring at the tree. – “The name you gave us is not your name and you have a dark secret in your young heart, luned. Your proud shoulders are bending under a burden.”  
“You know nothing, Yaevinn” – she replied resigned.  
“I can see when a person looks as I feel” – after this statement, she looked him in the eyes. – “I may be a Seidhe but I'm young, too. Still, the burden I carry I will carry for the rest of my life: the survival of my race, my culture, my people” – he looked away. – “Soon, the storm will come, from the East, the South, the West and the North: death hidden in forests and caves, quiet arrow and a dagger in the darkness. I wish dead for every dh'oine, but not for you, luned. I wish, that you, one day, could find what you are looking for – freedom.”  
Unintentionally she thought about two men, who were now deeper in the wood.

_Freedom, what a price we are to pay for it? Caden... Easbeth... I have changed you both, already. I took your innocence and what can I give you in return? The same burden I carry myself. But maybe, just maybe: equality, safety, a goal in your lives, which were changed forever just a few days ago. Would it be worth it?_


	30. Fen Yule 1269

FEN

 

Yule 1269  
beyond Elskerdeg Pass

They were already beyond the mountain pass. The Lonely Stone was on the horizon, but the freedom was not hers yet. She knew it well. She felt it in her bones, in her lungs, in blood flowing in her veins. The feeling of fear, resignation and terrible burden were there all the time: in her every waking hour and in her every dream. The only thing, that kept her sane - was him.

_Isengrim... How is it possible? You are in my veins, too and I cannot get you out. And you feel so different: a home, a life, peace. Still, both threads of my fate are entangled in a way, which makes it impossible to untie. The closer I get to you, the closer the death follows. Now, I understand how the Nilfgaardians always knew, that we bring death, that we are the Ysbryds. I bear no visible scar, it's neither my face nor my figure. It's death, which walks with me hand in hand, that they saw... just before the end._  
_How Angus put it on the day we rode out from Brokilon? Ah... He said in the mysterious voice of a man who knows: You have a secret, luned, a dark one... Fraere... Now you are gone, but we are here: some for better, some for worse. Don't worry, fraere, we'll meet again, soon... And you'll be probably the first, who will learn the whole story. We'll sit on the isle, where apple-trees whisper the songs of our lives and we'll wait for the rest. Will my love for him be just a distant memory? Or will I wait in pain – terrible, overwhelming pain of a woman, who lost her heart?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by Gareth:  
“There are three people by the fire. One is a Seidhe, it may be him. But the rest? He was to go alone to make sure no one is following...”

When they approached the fire, she heard voices:  
“Now, that we know who we are, where are you heading?”  
The voice froze her blood.

_Nilfgaardian... I don't know him personally, but the mere fact is a danger. A spy? A tracker?_

“South. To Zerrikania, Boreas” – was Isengrim's answer.  
“Good choice, Wolf. I was thinking the same.”

_An alias, me mienne? But for a man called Iron Wolf - it's a little bit too obvious, don't you think? There is still a lot you need to learn, my proud Seidhe..._

“And you, Sigi?” – the Nilfgaardian turned to the other man.  
“I will stay close to the Mountains. I like it here.”

_Another voice, this time well-known to us. Sigismunt Dijkstra. With no alias? Or he just kept the first name, knowing, that it's the hardest to get used to being called differently. And he never worked in the field too much. Well, he knows that Isengrim knows and believes, that the other man won't find out. Unlike Is, he lived in the shadows and his name is not so famous, though it should be... He was more effective in achieving his goals than any Scoia'tael... To the time, when Phillipa Eilhart decided to get rid of him._

Fen motioned to her men and they approached the fire. Three men turned around with different expressions. She said is a sweet voice:  
“Other travellers? It's always better to travel in a group, may we join you?”  
“Sure” – the Nilfgaardian, Boreas, answered. – “No harm can come from that, can it?”  
“Indeed” – she smiled again. – “They say: the more the merrier, but in our case: the more the safer” – she replied with a wide smile.  
She didn't even look at Isengrim.

_His new companions cannot know..._

 

The next day Isengrim and Boreas went hunting. Fen and her men stayed behind to prepare the camp. As soon as she could, she approached the man, who called himself Sigi Reuven:  
“Dijkstra. Interesting company you're keeping now.”  
“Fen, Elia or Lyanna... well I lost track of your aliases a long time ago” – he replied with irony.  
“This is a point, isn't it?”  
“That is true. You were always exceptional in your work. It was a pity, that I hadn't found you sooner.”  
“You lost the chance. My loyalty lies elsewhere.”  
“Oh, yes... Loyalty. So what are you doing here?”  
“Travelling, as all of you. Searching for a purpose in life, trying to find God, to become one with nature and so forth...” – it was her turn for the irony. – “Don't ask stupid questions, Dijkstra. I respect you too much.”  
“I'm honoured” – he bowed slightly. – “So, a better question for you: what do you need from me?”  
“Much, much better, indeed” – she smiled darkly. – “I would like to offer you a job. A purpose in your new life and payment. Not much of a fresh start but still... A job requiring your special skills and your vast expertise.”  
“Do not sugar-coat me. I don't need it nor do I like it. So you were tracking me?”  
“Yes. Though I must say, that your company surprised me. But, when you leave to do what you do best, no one will know, that we've ever met.”  
“You plan to kill them both?”  
“Yes. Boreas Mun, because dead men tell no tales. Isengrim Faoiltiarna, because there is still a price for his head, though not many know about it. His escape from death is top-secret information in all Realms. Only a few know, that there is a hunt: exclusive, only for the best hunters. And most importantly - hunters who stay silent” – Fen said in a business-like voice.  
“I understand. You're promising me a reward and you're making a concealed thread, which are to encourage me to do what? Exactly?”  
“Swear to me. Swear to keep all that happened here a secret and to help me with even more exciting task. Then, I will tell you.”  
“OK” – Dijkstra looked her in the eyes. – “I swear on my grave.”  
“Good, this is exactly where you'll head to if you betray me” – she said with a smile. – “I'm planning to kill Radovid” – she continued matter-of-factly.  
“I like your plan. What do you need?” – he said quickly.  
“Information, disinformation and a good diversion, but you answered too quickly. You know, that it's almost an impossible task. Why the hurry?” – she asked suspiciously.  
“You would kill me if I said no. And I'm truly bored with running with no goal, no conspiracy, no politics... You know me. As you are a nocturnal animal, I'm a political one. Is this answer enough?”  
“Yes.”  
“I head back immediately to start working. I must say: you made my day.”  
“Don't be so emotional, Dijkstra or I'll think, that you want to betray me, already.”  
“If I did, I would betray my strongest ally in taking revenge. You think I am stupid?”  
“No, that's why I came to you in the first place.”

After that conversation, they separated. Dijkstra started his journey back at once, accompanied by Gareth and Maddock – her men, who were to help him and make sure, that he stays true to his promise.

_A chance meeting. And how fruitful!_

When Isengrim and Mun came back, she asked to speak with the Seidhe at once. When they were far from the camp, she started:  
“You knew who 'Sigi' is, didn't you?”  
“Yes, obviously. Where is he?”  
“He disappeared. Gareth and Maddock are tracking him. He knows too much, Is. As does the other one.”  
“He has a name: Boreas Mun. He is a person.”  
“A dh'oine. What happened to: no mercy? To the anthills?”  
“No anthills here, I swear” – he said with a smile at the memory of their first meeting. And he continued: – “As to Sigi... Maybe he was afraid of us? You, me, your men... We all could kill him within a second.”  
“And we should have had.”  
“Eryr...” – Isengrim started.  
“No, Is. The other one must die, soon.”  
Isengrim fell silent for a long while, then he spoke in a sad voice:  
“Eryr... I left this life behind these mountains” – he motioned to the West. – “I'm not killing any longer. All I want now is to get to Haarkland, to Gwyncuan – the White Harbor, with you. To build a home with you. To have a family, a...” – he trailed off looking at her surprised face.

_My reaction hurts you. But I know things, that you have no idea about. You cannot make a home out of me. Not now, maybe never. Even if I yearn for it, as well._

“I will do it, now” – she said. – “Then, we'll talk some more.”  
With that, she left him standing alone. Boreas Mun didn't even know, what have happened. His throat was slit from behind, with one, strong and swift movement of a woman, who killed many men before and was yet to kill many more in the future.

A few hours later, she spoke with Isengrim again.  
“How did you find the place we're heading to?” – he asked.  
“I heard about it from Zerrikanian merchant I've met a few years ago in Oxenfurt. I bought the ring of silver and lapis-lazuli from him” – she showed him the ring, which he knew well. – “The match to my necklace. He said, that the sky looks like this gemstone there and the sea is like a sapphire.”  


Isengrim held her close. They had already asked her men to go ahead to give them some space and some time alone.


	31. Isengrim Imbaelk 1269

ISENGRIM

 

Imbaelk 1269  
just beyond Elskerdeg Pass  
Pyll Bredh (Pláta Foraoise)

Two days later, Eryr came to him with uncertainty all over her face:  
“I got something for you back in the Realms but I'm not sure as to your reaction. Promise to talk to me” – she said.  
“It's you, who hide, ma mienne” – he stated with small irritation in his voice. – “I promise” – he added seeing her face fell even more.  
After that, she opened her hand and extended something in his direction. What she had in her palm, was a small necklace with an elegant and simple crimson jasper. She said:  
“If you ever needed to go back to the other side of the Fiery Mountains your scar is too well known. This stone has strong spells on it, it will cover any scar you have. Like mine” – she pointed at her lapis-lazuli necklace, which she was wearing since he remembered.  
He didn't speak at once. He was pondering for a long time, but took the necklace and hid it in his pocket.  
“Are you ready to talk about it?” – he asked in return.  
“I'm sure you heard the story from Coinneach. The Aenyell'hael... Baptism of fire...” – she trailed off. – “But there are many more scars covering my body, too.”  
“Fire purifies” – he said.  
“Fire takes away, me mienne. And Coinneach, despite his age, learned it the hard way” – she said and regretted her outburst the second she met his eyes. She looked to the ground, but he said:  
“I know, that he had, maybe still has, deep feelings for you. But, I didn't even know you by then. There is nothing to hide away from.”  
“No, Is... Coinneach had deep feelings for his image of me. Not even a lie per se, but an image. He was caught by the flame he set himself. But still, every time I see him, there is the longing in his eyes... for Deithdaeg” – she paused. – “That year when I've met him defined a lot in my life, a lot more than just the baptism of fire...” – she stopped again. – “What he wanted from me was my youth, Is. But I hadn't been young for a long time before I met him. The person he knew by then... wasn't real. It was a role, the role we both chose for me and agreed on” – she stopped afraid, that she said too much.  
Then, it was his turn to be afraid. To ask for too much or to say something, what would make her run away. But most importantly, afraid to hear, that what they had was a role-play, too. He remembered the words of the Nilfgaardian officer spoken on the ship to Dillingen.

_The one, who blinded all three of you. One by one..._

He watched her carefully, but decided to speak:  
“I gave you a pet-name, too...”  
It was her turn to look at him intently:  
“You did. But you are the only one, who sees all of the shades and still wants me. With you... I'm all versions of me and I feel like myself” – she smile at him and paused. – “I think, that I can...” – she trailed off again and removed her necklace.  
At once, he saw a long scar under her jaw, starting at her ear and going beyond the chin up almost to another ear. It looked like someone wanted to skin her face.

_Who did that to you, ma mienne?_

A small scar was visible on her forehead, too.  
“All of the scars on my face are souvenirs from our times as Ysbryds in Nilfgaard. Battle-scars and I regret nothing, I can assure you” – she laughed at his expression.  
He knelt before her and kissed her deeply and gently.

_How did I find you? You truly don't care about your beauty, do you? You - unlike myself and many other Seidhe, scarred during the war - do not care, that you lost, what you were born with. You hid the scars to remain ordinary. Ordinary! This is how you see yourself and this is how you make it look so easy. It's not studied beauty, it's just you. And there is much more behind this pretty face of yours and this tempting body. How could I not lo... Ah... Leave it for now._

His hands moved on their own accord to her jacket and he removed it, but when he started unbuttoning her shirt, he stopped. She knew his body, his scars – she had trailed them with her fingertips many times. But, she was hiding her real body from him for a long time. When he ceased kissing her, he found her eyes open and daring. She stood up, moved further from him and undressed without hesitation: looking him in the eyes all the time. When she was finished, the challenge was visible in her eyes. Like she was asking silently: do you want me, still?  
“Come back to me” – he said and motioned the place in front of him. She came and sat down.  
He pushed her gently as if she could scatter before his eyes. When she was lying on her back, he kissed every scar he found, including the leg: the terrible burn-scar on her calf and foot. She twitched slightly at that, but didn't run. Then, he brought his mouth in between her tights.  
“Ma mienne...” – he whispered in her ear when he was back at the level of her face. Looking in her eyes, he started to move inside her.  
Making love under the sun and stars was preferable for any Seidhe, he felt that way, too. In the middle of no where they were by then, somehow sex felt different for him – liberating. For the first time in six years, since he's met her, they had all the time in the world. No duties to perform right away, no responsibilities to take first thing in the morning and he wanted nothing more than to make love with her, even for days, even in the quite unwelcoming place they were by then.  
Simple features of her body, not covered by spells and lies, became more fascinating to him than they have ever been before. He could kiss and suck and touch every inch of her body again and again. Exploring. His own release became a secondary goal.

 

After especially calm and sweet day together, he spent probably an hour teasing her, gently building her pleasure with the expertise he never cared to have or show. Gently and passionately they were moving together, closely entangled, with him on the top, facing her extraordinary eyes. He thought, that maybe in this land of freedom, for once her eyes would glitter with a warm light of her pleasure. But they didn't. While the hottest sounds and moans were coming out of her mouth and she clung closely to him, her eyes haven't changed.

_Piercing... cold... and now distant as well... As if her soul was still on the West side of the Fiery Mountains..._

He remembered what Caden said all those years ago:

_She baked it after she left you in the bed. That means two things: she does not want to leave you and she feels like running away from you at the same time. Soon, she will feel cornered and you will never see her again, fraere. Do not expect her to be who you want her to be, it will never happen. So when she comes back, make sure to know whether you want to take it as it is or leave it, because you cannot have it both ways._  
_Oh, Eryr, ma mienne... I am trying so hard. Just meet me halfway._

 

So they travelled further for the next month until they saw the first great river – Lumë-me-Shkëlqim, which in Elder Tongue would be called Abhainn Lonracha – the Shiny River, coming from in between white mountain slopes. They heard the sea and pine trees whistling in the breeze from far away. And a few days later, they crossed Lumë-i-Shpejtë - Abhainn Tapaidh – the Swift River. Then, they saw the camp of at least a hundred tents... They made it. Not all, but many.

_Angus... Riordain... If only you could have seen this..._

He thought with sadness, but didn't linger and moved forward.


	32. Coinneach Velen 1269

COINNEACH

 

Velen 1269  
the camp  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

Gwyncuan, their White Harbor, was a beautiful but wild place: with strong winds, hot sun and violent storms. And they had nothing, but what little they brought with them. Living in tents, working every-day to survive, they didn't really have time to admire its beauty too much.

That day, he was heading closer to the sea to the tent Fen shared with Isengrim.

_Well... The simple thought is still painful, but... They were made for each other, I can see that now. They are the future and they need each other more than they know it yet._

Isengrim was already up and he worked at the construction place. The white stones, ordered in lines, started to look like a house by now. Coinneach greeted him:  
“Ceád'mil.”  
“Coinneach... Eryr will meet you, she remembers about the council, but she is still asleep. Building a ship turned out to be her true calling” – both Seidhe smiled. – “But it's even harder than building a house, if you don't have all the tools you need. Last night, I suspect, that she was talking about the project long after I fell asleep...”  
“We have a quasi-forge already working” – the older Seidhe stated.  
“We know, but making tools for her would be even more challenging, than building a ship without them. But she will figure it out, she always does” – the awkward silence fell. Talking about Fen/Eryr still wasn't easy.  
“How will it look like?” – Coinneach motioned to the house.  
“All white, with deep-blue frames and doors. She loves blue... But enough about the building” – the younger Seidhe said, seeing the other's face. – “How is governing?”  
“We both know, that I didn't choose this role, Is...”  
“But you are great at it.”  
“Well... I'm the eldest here, it was a natural choice.”  
“And the best!” – the female voice came from the direction of the tent. Fen just emerged with a smile on her lips.  
“How is it possible, that you are smiling in the morning?” – Isengrim asked with irony.  
“Shut up...” – she barked – “I tried... And we have a guest, one shall be polite, no? Now, I need to eat and I'll join you, Coinneach" – she stated angrily, but smiled at the older Seidhe and winked.  
“I will never get her” – Isengrim stated with resignation.  
“Neither will I” – Coinneach agreed.  
“She respects you.”  
“Because she doesn't sleep with me anymore...”  
“Isengrim!” – an angry shout came from the tent, just in time to interrupt this awkward conversation. – “Where is my plate? How hard it is to learn one simple rule: put things back where you took them from?! Do you do it on purpose in the mornings? And no! I'm not imagining things, again. And no! It's not funny... Oh... I found it and well... it actually could have been me, who... never mind...” – Fen's voice came from the tent. – “I hate mornings! Pest!”  
“Yes... it is like this every morning” – Isengrim said quietly and calmly. – “I'm still learning not to react. But this woman can make it really, really hard. Why do you think, I'm up so early? I'm getting out of the way of this storm. But, unfortunately usually, she gets up at the same time as me. And then, it's much worse... Maybe after she finishes building her ship, you can think of something new for her to build?”  
Both Seidhe looked at each other and laughed heartedly.

_Maybe we can move past all of that. Maybe it can be as it was before..._

The next week he woke up and emerged from his tent to find Isengrim sitting in front of it, looking at the mountains. Coinneach laughed and asked with irony:  
“Did you need to run away from her this far on this fine morning? What did she do?”  
The younger Seidhe didn't look at him but extended his hand with a letter. Coinneach started to read:

_My dear Isengrim,_

_I am writing this letter early in the morning, in the first rays of the sun, watching you sleep. This life, here in Gwyncuan, was just a dream. The dream I must wake up from. Forgive me..._

_Yours,_  
_Eryr_

_So she did it again..._

Coinneach looked at the younger Seidhe and stated:  
“When you are ready, come to my tent. I still have some wine.”

He walked back to the tent and sat down, sighing in resignation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrew Belle „In My Veins”


	33. Saskia Saovine 1272

SASKIA

 

Saovine 1272  
Dol Angra  
Lyria and Rivia

At the foot of the mountains, she left Geralt of Rivia, the famous Gwynbleidd and they both headed their separate ways. She went on, moving forward. She was deep in her thoughts, still crushed by the weight of the world. When she left Vergen, she's already known... felt, that she is leaving them for their doom.  
As she left Iorveth months ago in Loc Muinne, he decided to go with Fen to the place they both called home - Bregdetit-të-Bardhë, the White Harbor, far beyond Fiery Mountains. He gave Saskia only vague directions as to where she could find him, if she changed her mind.  
The doom came as always: sooner than expected. On their way to Solveiga Gate together with Geralt they saw black banners of Nilfgaardian armies. But she couldn't stay in Vergen, not after what had happened. Not after the death of no other but Barclay Els, the colonel of Mahakaman Volunteer Army. So she left Vergen, the dream of the free Pontar Valley and friends. Everything was lost now and Nilfgaardwas on its way to take it piece by piece.

_And now only one thing is giving me hope after everything: the violent, ruthless and pathologically loyal Seidhe. One of the last Scoia'tael, one I gave up to follow my dreams and what I believed was my duty._  
_The one about whom I've dreamt for months, more than a year. And my every dream was more explicit than the last. But in all of them... I was his and he was mine. Especially after..._  
_Iorveth, with his incredibly tempting rose-bush tattoo. With scars deeper than my own. With determination and convictions matching mine. With lust limitless and fiery._  
_The one I could stay with, but knew, that his loyalty lies to the cause, not to the person._  
_He wasn't made to be faithful and I wasn't made to tolerate it. We've already said that to each other. But I need to give us one more chance: to become one or to understand, that it can never be._

With these thoughts clouding her mind she was travelling alone in her human form to the Elskerdeg Pass.


	34. Iorveth Birke 1270

IORVETH

 

Birke 1270  
La Valette castle  
Temeria

Iorveth sighed. He was travelling with Isengrim searching frantically for Fen for four months by now. They were back in the Northern Realms, where they both had hoped not to come back. At least Isengrim did...

_I'm not finished with this place just yet... I'll make them bleed again... But he doesn't need to know that._

They were hidden in the shadow, inside the vast grounds of La Valette castle, watching the walls, balconies and passages. They got a tip, that a woman almost matching Fen's description had come here two days before them.

_She didn't leave, so maybe..._

Just then, there was a movement on the balcony not far from where they were standing.  
He gasped in surprise. She had longer, raven-black hair, now. She was wearing a tasteful, pitch-black evening dress revealing just enough of her contrasting almost white skin to make many men gape and lose their minds from desire. She looked marvellous and so unlike her...  
The two men were standing with her and chatting and all looked comfortable in each other's company. Iorveth recognised them. One of them was the lord of the caste after his father's death: count Aryan la Valette. The other - young, but the richest man in Temeria, whose coffers were rumoured to exceed the king's by far: duke Guillaume de Lacrosse. As Iorveth remembered: both had neither a wife nor an heir, yet.  
Isengrim was watching intently and his face was completely expressionless. They heard voices:  
“You are truly the most extravagant and breath-taking woman I know, Elia. I would marry you on the spot” – the duke said.  
“Hush hush, my dear” – came sweet and thick with honey voice of Fen. – “Or is it a proposal?”

_Fen would never speak like that. It was Elia's voice... A stranger. The woman I barely recognise._

“It is and we have a witness to that” – the duke motioned to Aryan la Valette.  
“Well, my friend, if you make her agree to that, you will be the one who truly holds the crown jewel... I'll leave you to that...” – the count retreated into the castle, but looked back again.

_You want to have her, too, dh'oine... But your friend got there first and you are retreating... Hmm..._

“I will give you everything, my Raven. Anything you ask” – the duke said with lust and adoration in his voice.

_Raven... Cerbin... A herald of death..._

“And what am I to do in return?” – Elia asked in a falsely innocent voice.  
“Come with me” – he extended his hand.  
She took it. When she was closer to him, he touched her face gently and bent his head to kiss her long neck. She surrendered to his touch willingly. Then, he took her hand again and she followed him inside to anther exit from the balcony. In the doorway, he was already opening her dress and they heard her chuckle teasingly and saying:  
“Let's have some wine first, I brought Est Est straight from Toussaint, year 1249 and you know, that it was the best year...”

Iorveth and Isengrim were silent. There was not much to say. After long minutes, the older Seidhe ordered:  
“We're leaving. We shouldn't have come back” – his voice was stern and cold.  
“OK.”

But once outside the castle walls, Iorveth said:  
“Maybe we should wait and speak to her. Maybe...”  
“You can stay. I know, that she is like a sister to you and you will love her, either way. But I...” – Isengrim chocked on the last words. – “I am on my way back. Good luck, fraere.”  
Then, he disappeared into the darkness.

_I'll talk to her and we can find him later. If... We will see..._

 

Two hours later, he saw a hooded figure galloping on the blood-bay horse from the castle. It was midnight.

_Who? I must find out._

He had no time to think, but an advantage of his location. He simply stood in the middle of the road, exactly in the rider's way. The horse was stopped. The rider motioned to the forest and rode there. She was waiting for him at the nearest clearing. Now he saw, that she removed the hood reviling her hair. Then, she asked in an irritated voice:  
“Iorveth!? What are you doing here? Have you lost your mind? You are dead, remember?”  
“We came looking for you, but after the little show on the balcony, Is decided, that he cannot look at you. And I must admit, I have mixed feelings to say the least, too. With a dh'oine!? Sor'ca...” – he stated, disappointed and angry.  
“I don't plan to explain myself to you, fraere. So if you are waiting for it, you can go, too” – she replied coldly.

He started to think. Isengrim was right. Iorveth was angry, but he didn't care as much as to miss an opportunity to have a friend by his side, the one who could set a blazing fire herself...  
“OK. I accept that. Do you have a mind for a little mischief, though?” - he asked grining.  
“What?” – she asked taken by surprise and her eyebrows were raised high.  
“I want to make them bleed some more, I'm not finished with these dh'oine in the Realms just yet. What would you say to that?”  
She looked at him with wide, wicked and dark grin. Her eyes were glittering dangerously in the starlight when she spoke:  
“I know someone perfect for you. Her name is Saskia, Saesenthessis and she is a dragon. A real one” – he was so surprised, that he even made a shocked sound. – “I've met her some time ago and she had a plan. No, THE plan and the one, which will cost a lot of blood. If you are up to something really big: go to Eysenlaan and ask for my old friend, Yarpen Zigrin. He is a dwarf and he will shelter you. I'll tip Saskia to meet you. It was good to see you, fraere” – she hugged him saying that – “but I must go.”  
Then, she mounted her blood-bay horse again and added, turning around:  
“I would forget. Tell Yarpen: _all that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost_. He will know, that I sent you.”

He stood there for a while in amazement. Something is coming. He knew it as well as he knew the poem she cited. And there were two particularly interesting lines:

 _From the ashes, a fire shall be woken,_  
_A light from the shadows shall spring._

_But the tale is one with a happy ending, with hope and good in it. Our world is different... Still... I must meet this dragoness._

With this thought, he was gone heading East. However, his heart was not light. His hometown, Eysenlaan, was so full of memories...


	35. Isengrim the night of Belleteyn 1270

ISENGRIM

 

the night of Belleteyn 1270  
Ban Gleán  
Kaedwen

The celebrations of the Belleteyn were always incredible. In the Aen Seidhe communities, there were wine, food and love: free, passionate and all-consuming. He met two Scoia'tael from his former commando on their way to Dol Blathanna. He knew, that he shouldn't show his face, but frankly... he didn't care any more. They were shocked and happy but didn't ask any questions. Both promised to keep his secret.  
He listened to their stories. Officially, Scoia'tael - unlike their commanders - were free and under the amnesty but banned from Dol Blathanna. Unofficially, they were hunted by the Order of the Flaming Rose, bounty hunters and mercenaries, and decided to try to get to Dol Blathanna, either way.  
Suddenly, they heard the party nearby and all three longed for good old-fashion celebrations. He was wearing the necklace Fen gave him a year ago.

_The scar is hidden, maybe no one will recognise us?_

And he was right. The party was already on for a few hours, most of the men and women were intoxicated with various substances. The arrival of three well-dressed Seidhe with no visible scars made no one wary.

_The city Seidhe. They're not afraid of strangers. They didn't live in the forests, didn't run for their lives. At least, most of them._

He drunk and danced with various women. But, it was as he went for another glass of wine, when two gorgeous Aen Seidhe came his way:  
“Tallula” – said the one with light brown hair and amber eyes.  
“Muire” – introduced herself the other, with ebony straight hair and lilac eyes.  
“Gael” – he lied, using the name, that came to his mind a while ago when he was introducing himself in this company for the first time.

“Do you wanna come with us?” – Tallula asked with teasing smile.  
“How could I refuse?” – he answered with a question and joined them on the way deeper into the forest.

No, he didn't think of Eryr when one of the women was riding him and the other was leaning and brushing his mouth with her womanhood. Nor did he think of her when he was plundering one of them on her knees, while the other was occupied stimulating his behind and pleasing herself in the process.  
Truly, he only didn't think of her during the dozen seconds after his release, when he didn't think at all.  
Afterwards, they all collapsed on the grass, spent. They fell silent. Tallula stood up and stated:  
“I'm going for the alcohol” – and left. He and Muire fell silent again.  
“You know.... it may sound terrible, but we came to you mostly because you are exactly Leslie's type” – Muire said not looking at him.  
“Forgive my hesitation, but if I remember correctly, your friend's name is Tallula. So, who is Leslie?” – he asked surpised, looking at the beauty lying next to him. He was now thinking hard if he has it in him to have more sex with one more woman tonight.

_When did I get so old?_

“Dead” – she answered blankly. – “Let's make love again” – he obliged, but was still in a deep shock - the answer was not, what he had expected it to be.


	36. Neilina Blathe 1270

NEILINA

 

Blathe 1270  
the cottage outside Vengerberg  
Aedrin

She was in the safest place in the world with a man, who would not only never harm her, but also who would protect her from anything. And he looked exactly the same as before, well... almost. She was watching Isengrim intently, as he was sitting by the table in a small, but clean and nice cottage, where they were hiding.  
She sat on the other side of the table and he stated:  
“Now, talk to me... What happened?”  
“What happened to you? How?”  
“I cannot speak about it, ma blathien...”

_My little flower... Oh... How I missed it..._

“I understand” – she replied with hesitation. – “I...” – and she began a long story of the last seven years of her life.  
When she finished, he was silent. He looked at her with sorrow and guilt. She knew what he was thinking:  
“It's not your fault.”  
“But it is” – he said stubbornly. – “If I were here...”  
“But I know why you weren't” – she interrupted.  
“I could have come too late to help you.”  
“But you didn't. You came just in time, me mienne.”

 

_Blathe 1270_  
_the same day_  
_Vengerberg_

_She was living with Velloran, a handsome Seidhe and one of the few, who still had a small fortune, despite not being a dh'oine. He adored her, desired her and could give her a good life in this world. They were perfectly happy, eating breakfasts and dinners together, travelling and laughing almost all the time. The sex was pleasing, too. He took care of her, always and made sure to keep her happy. She cared for him somewhat... for now, he was perfect._

_One night, they came to the house: dh'oine, Aedrinian officers. They killed Velloran in his bed. When they turned to her, one was already half naked and angry..._  
_“On your knees” – he gave her a cold, viscous order._  
_“What?!”_  
_“Stupid elven whore, I said: on your knees. We will plunder all three graceful and delicate holes of yours so hard, that you would choke and tomorrow, you wouldn't be able to walk. And maybe, we will take you with us... as a play-toy, you are exquisite little thing, after all...”_

_Upon hearing that, she made few steps and jumped through the window. Pieces of glass were everywhere and cut her skin in some places, but she managed to survive. And she ran as fast as she could. Then, she hid in the slums for the night. But she remembered the officer's eyes and his voice, and was determined to run away as far as possible. But she knew, that it's not easy to run from Aedrinian officers, who lusted for her._  
_By chance, while walking - hidden under the hood - through the street, she saw no other, but a man she knew for a better part of her life, whom she always loved in a way and who would save anyone, who needed help. But he was supposed to be dead... It was impossible... She decided quickly and followed him into a dark gateway. When she stepped in behind the corner, a strong hand pushed her on a wall and anther was on her throat. But the second his brown, almost black eyes recognised her, he let her go and whispered:_  
_“Neilina... Squaess'me. I'm nervous lately...”_  
_As she looked into those warm and caring eyes, she didn't even realise, when she kissed him. He answered with no hesitation and so they lingered for a while. When they separated, he said softly:_  
_“I can't. It's too dangerous, I must go.”_  
_“I'm in trouble, Is. I need to disappear” – she spoke quickly._  
_He looked at her strangely at first but seeing how distressed she was, he said:_  
_“Follow me. We need to see someone.”_

_So she did._

 

And there she was with famous by now Isengrim Faoiltiarna. The hero for the Aen Seidhe, the best known Scoia'tael commander, a colonel. Still... For the last two days, they were just living together and, but for a few kisses, nothing happened between them. It was on the evening of the second day when she grew impatient. He told her some of the things, that have happened when he was fighting in the war. But he said nothing, what could have led to him not wanting her any more.

_And the experience made him look even more handsome than before. If it's even possible... He may be a wanted man and on the run, but he still has a plan and I can follow him. So desirable man..._

She felt more than she knew, that he is in a dark place and at first, she tried to talk about it. He was answering every question, but she could sometimes feel, that he was lying or keeping things from her. Important things. So, on the second evening, she was waiting for him in the bed to finish his bath. She was naked and lying in a very suggestive position. When he came, he stopped in the doorway with an uncertain face. She teased him:  
“Since when have you became shy, Isengrim?”  
“Is it what you think it is?” – he replied with a question.  
“Don't you want me?”  
“I've always wanted you, blathien.”  
“You seem like you were hiding from the sun and the moon. From any light, living in the shadows. So here we are: in a room where the light won't find you. And I know: many things are not what they supposed to be and we are in danger even here, but... I want to be with you, holding hands while the walls come tumbling down.”  
“You have no idea in what danger you are with me. You barely know what this word means.”  
“I'm in no danger with you, Isengrim. You will protect me” – she said with a smile and added: – “Stop that, we are here, now, together. Make love to me, me mienne.”  
He was still standing, observing her. But she was determined, so she spoke softly:  
“Nothing ever lasts forever. If it was to be the last night before the end of the world would you help me make the most of the freedom we now have and of pleasure we can share?”  
She knew, that the last line did it. He approached the bed, undressing on his way. But it was different. She was touching him, remembering all the lines of his body, every soft spot and every inch she knew. But for him it was different. He was different. He always wanted to look her in the eyes, when they came together but not on this night. He quickly turned her around, putting a pillow under her hips with a swift movement. She knew, what he wanted and was more than happy to do it. She tilted her hips, so that her entrance would be easier to access and he entered her. Soon he whispered:  
“Touch yourself.”  
And smiling, she did. She enjoyed this new, hungry and eager, way they made love. He didn't rush it, but definitely they didn't take it slow. When she came, with a soft, almost studied moan, he followed shortly. Soon, he moved to his side to lay next to her. She turned to face him, lifting herself on her bent elbow. He touched her arm, her waist, but there was no smile on his lips. There was no expression at all.

_So unlike you..._

They spoke a while about nothing, truly. Then, she moved to him again, wanting more of him, more of the pleasure his body was always giving her. And there was something wild in him now more than ever before. And she yearned to feel it. To her suspire, it took him a while to be ready again, but he got there. Then, he pushed her gently on her back and knelt between her spread legs, but he had a different plan. He lifted her legs, caught them with one hand and moved to lie on his side in the right angle to her, but still facing her. Then, he put her legs gently on his hips, with her heels touching his bottom. His hand went to her clitoris and he entered her again.  
She didn't remember making love in this position ever before and that was saying a lot. She was as excited as she hadn't been in a long time.

_Oh... Isengrim Faoiltiarna... you've learned a few things during the last years...Oh..._

But despite her arousal and excitement, she was still in perfect control of herself, moaning sweetly and softly even when she came.

Soon, they went to sleep and while he was touching her, he touched her lightly suggesting, that she can go whenever she wants. But she didn't. In the morning, he agreed to take her to Gwyncuan with him and so they started their long journey.  


But the journey was a nightmare. She was not used to living like that – under the sky with only small quasi-tent to hide in. He was not patient with her moods and complaining. She became angry, that they didn't make love for hours over and over again. He was irritated by her possessiveness and constant need for attention. She was crying, screaming and then went silent for hours. He was throwing things, breaking things and didn't speak at all, almost. They were dysfunctional. And then... as she was thinking about turning around and going back to the Realms, she realised, that vomiting every day may not be from the food they were having, but it can be morning sickness...


	37. Coinneach Velen 1270

COINNEACH

 

Velen 1270  
the harbour  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncaun)

He was looking at the sea. Their Gwyncuan was a little paradise with white sand on the beach in the North, great Muir Saffir (Sapphire Sea) to the East, white mountains encircling it to the South and almost as fertile as Dol Blathanna – Muir Glaswellt, Sea of Grass, to the West. The beauty of this relatively wild and untouched place was captivating. It truly felt as if Dana Méadbh herself was gracing them again with her presence. It felt like she followed them – or the young dh'oine woman, who led them here – to this miracle more than a home.  
Their lives were not easy, but without a comparison to what they had been before. They needed to start from scratch: build houses, produce tools and materials. Everything, even... farming.

_Disgusting, such not Aen Seidhe thing... But we have no choice. Even with excessive fishing, there would be no food enough for the whole community, now more than four hundred people... But we are happy, I am happy. The strangest feelings of all._

It was Yeavinn, who interrupted his thoughts:  
“Coinneach, once again: thank you for everything.”  
“There is nothing to be thankful for, my boy. This place belongs to all of us and every Seidhe will find here a shelter. Especially, the one ready to work.”  
“Galel Najwa aep Askari is a good man, but we've known it already...” – Yeavinn was quiet for a while, remembering. – “Here, we would be lost without him. As a good son of a landlord, he knows much about farming and about giving orders.”  
“Is he overstepping?”  
“I like him, Coinneach, but if he had tried I wouldn't stand it. No, to the contrary... he is so polite, that even I, with my own special manner of speaking, am lost as to what I'm to do” – he chuckled. – “It's so not Aen Seidhe: farming... Still, it feels so natural here. I cannot even describe it... Like we've all changed the moment we crossed the Fiery Mountains.”  
“As to changes, Yeavinn: is it true? Toruviel, the free Seidhe from Dol Blathanna, suggested for you two to...” – the older Seidhe didn't finish, trying to find words for the arrangement he heard about.  
“Be exclusive? Be FAITHFUL? Yes. She has changed, too. But, there is something refreshing in that change. I don't believe it to be a permanent solution, but a few decades of such an arrangement may be an educational experience. Or we may kill each other in the process, so...”  
“No killing here, Yeavinn.”  
“I know. It was a figure of speech. You've changed, too, old friend” – the younger Seidhe replied pensively.  
“True. Most importantly: I don't plan to tolerate any violence anymore and as the head of our community - I mean it.”  
“Someone is coming” – Yeavinn stated, looking to the West.

Indeed, from the direction of Abhainn Tapaidh he saw two approaching figures.

_Newcomers?_

“I'll greet them” – Yeavinn stated and went in their direction.  
Coinneach was standing alone near the sea for a while. As he heard footsteps he turned quickly - his reflexes were still sharp. And he saw Yeavinn, who exclaimed:  
“It's Isengrim!” – with a wide smile.

_Oh my boy! Back, at last! And the other is it...?_

“With a woman” – Yeavinn continued.  
“Fen!” – Coinneach said more happily, that he should have shown.  
“No... She said her name is Neilina.”

_Well... Maybe he found some Seidhe on the way. Someone who needed help. He would not refuse. Wait... Neilina... I heard this name before, she was Isengrim's former lover, wasn't she? What...?_

Yeavinn spoke further:  
“She is pregnant, Coinneach!” – the younger Seidhe exclaimed happily.

_A life... The continuity of our race. A pure-blooded child. The rarest gift of all for us, the Aen Seidhe. The blessing so many, as myself, was not graced with. But..._

Coinneach rushed, bypasing Yeavinn to stand face-to-face with extremely beautiful, quite young female pure-blooded Seidhe with chestnut hair and brown eyes. And indeed with signs of pregnancy.  
“Ceád'mil” – she started. – “You must be Coinneach, it is a true honour to finally meet you. Isengrim was speaking so much about you, commander.”  
He shook her hand, but said nothing. Just then, behind her he saw the well-known face, but with no scar to which he has already grown accustomed to. The younger Seidhe grinned and spoke:  
“Ca...” – but he never finished. Coinneach's voice came much angrier than he, himself, anticipated:  
“Is she carrying your child?” – he paused waiting for the answer, but as it didn't come, he continued: – “Isengrim, answer me, boy!”  
“Wha...?”  
“Isengrim, now!”  
“Why? Co...” – the younger Seidhe didn't have a chance to finish, again.  
“Where is Fen?” – Coinneach changed the subject of the interrogation.  
“Last time I've seen her she was in the La Valette castle, heading to the bed with a fucking dh'oine” – Isengrim's voice was still calm, but his long-concealed rage was building slowly.  
“I do not believe this.”  
“You should. I saw it myself” – now Isengrim shouted, not controlling himself any longer.  
“Did you speak to her?” – Coinneach asked with confusion.  
“She was probably too busy before I left. It was too much of humiliation - as you would know, if you were there - to stay and wait patiently for them to finish.”  
“I was there! Did you forget? How you grabbed her and carried her just from in front of my nose? You are no dh'oine, true. But, what is probably even worse: you are like a son to me, what you knew well. But still, you claimed her like an object, which was rightfully yours to have. In the most disrespectful way you could: making the scene of your conquer for everybody to watch.”

And total silence fell for a long time.  
“Neach...” – Isengrim tried, but once more was interrupted:  
“No, Is. It doesn't matter. What matters, is that she saved us all and gave us a new life here. She is worthy not only to be respected, but a benefit of a doubt, too. So again: is she, Neilina, carrying your child?”  
The younger Seidhe just stood there. His face fell and he tensed. He was breathing with difficulty. And then Coinneach saw, what he feared to see.

_You are ashamed. So I have my answer._

Coinneach turned around, not being able even to look at Isengrim right now and he approached Neilina with completely different demeanour - smiling warmly at her he said:  
“Come, luned. I will show you our harbour and one of the new houses you would be very welcome to stay in. Do you need anything? Water? Food? I will make sure to make you comfortable here.”  
He didn't even turn around to spare a glance for a man he cared for like for a son.


	38. Neilina Lammas 1271

NEILINA

 

Lammas 1271  
the town  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

Isengrim was holding her hand gently, as they were both looking at the boy with big brown eyes and short, curly, brown hair of a newborn. He was there for her all this time. The memories of delivering her son were blurred. All but one: Isengrim's presence at her side.  
Now, he was there for both of them, as well. It was him, who was getting up in the middle of the night to carry the boy until he went back to sleep. It was him, who loved to carry Caelebran everywhere he went. No, she couldn't do it without Is, that she knew. At moments, when she was almost crying - exhausted - he kept her company, hugging her close to his body. He was her rock, her strength and she was grateful for it.  
After the child's birth, she even stopped arguing with Isengrim, though she knew, that sometimes she would have had in the past. But at present, she didn't wish for an argument, too occupied with the happiness she was feeling, the joy they shared.  
In the mornings, she was getting up first and after taking care of Caelebran, she prepared breakfast for both of them. Then, she waited for Isengrim to wake up before eating together. The mornings were the best part of the day, when they both had time and the child was usually back to sleep. From time to time, she saw something strange in Isengrims' eyes, as when he said warmly, sitting next to her at the table:  
“You are true, cheerful sunshine in the mornings.”  
“I am! But look at us: me, you and Caelebran. Not long ago... I mean. I have a lot to be happy for now.”

In the evenings, they talked a lot or rather she did. She told him everything about her past already, but she liked just talking to him. The way he listened and cared for her made her opening up to him with no reservations. Then, again, sometimes there was something strange in Isengrim's expression:  
“I love evenings like this. When we both have time and Caelebran looks so peacefully in your lap. I want this moment to last forever...” – she stated.  
“I will always be there for you, Neilina” – he replied, but something was in those eyes. Something she didn't understand.  
“I... Thank you for being here” – she said with a voice full of emotions.  
“You are perfect, aren't you?” – he asked in a quiet voice.  
“I try, Is” – she replied sweetly.

He observed her for a long time, but then, looked away through the window.


	39. Saskia Feainn 1270

SASKIA

 

Feainn 1270  
the slums of Eysenlaan  
Aedrin

Through one of the dirty windows she looked inside the small and poor house, which she passed by on the street. The slums of Eysenlaan were dirty and unwelcoming. The ugly, shattering houses were depressing and the smell was choking her... She went in the direction of the house described to her by a man, whom she didn't know, but who gave her the right password. The message was coming from Fen, there was no doubt about that. It still could be a trap, but she was told to go there in the daylight and openly. So the chances of a foul play were slim. And she was to meet with three dwarfs, what could go wrong?  
She knew Yarpen Zigrin, Malcolm Stein and Golan Vivaldi well. She always liked them.

_Probably a dragon thing..._

When she knocked, it was Yarpen, who greeted her:  
“Saskia! It's good to see you, lassie!”  
“And you, Yarpen.”  
“Come in... come in...” – he invited her with a wide grin.  
Once she was inside, she first noticed an exquisite painting on the wall. It was standing out, not suitable for a place like that.  
The painting was a full portrait of a naked female Seidhe in a half-lying position. Her marvellous golden hair was hiding part of her breasts and her nipples. The most intimate parts of her body along with part of her tights were covered by a small rose-bush. Her dreamy eyes... they were blue as the sky in the spring. Saskia found no words to describe her beauty nor the talent of the painter, who painted her like she was alive on the canvas. Like she would move any moment to lean in for a kiss. However, the portrait was not completely finished.  
“Do you like it?”  
A dark and dangerous voice came from behind her. She turned quickly to see a Seidhe standing there and watching her intently. His hair was raven-black and only a few of them escaped from under the bandanna, which was covering part of his face. On his right cheek ran a scar, which was disappearing under the material. But it was not his scar, what caught her attention. It was his one remaining eye: deep green, like a leaf of holy. This eye was looking predatory, seeing through her. She felt naked under his gaze at once.  
Then, she felt a blush creeping on her cheeks.  
“I...” – she started, but stopped when she noticed a rose-bush tattoo on his neck. Incredibly tempting, disappearing under his écru shirt.  
“It's not for show” – he said and encircled her to turn the painting around. Now, it displayed a view of the main gates to the city of Vengerberg.

_Two-in-one. Interesting. Like someone wanted to preserve the painting, but was afraid to look at the portrait._

She observed his movements. He looked at her again with anger and contempt in his expression as he spoke:  
“You are late.”  
“I...” – she almost trailed off again, but stopped herself. Mustering a stronger voice she stated:  
“I came exactly when I wanted to come.”  
The Seidhe looked at her, curious, but not with the contempt anymore:  
“My name is Iorveth” – he introduced himself in a warm voice.  
“Saskia” – she extended her hand to allow him to shake it.  
“I heard, that you are more of Saesenthessis. And I'm inclined to believe it” – he said in a quiet voice, still looking at her like he wanted to see her body, mind and soul at once. She trembled, but didn't retrieve her extended hand.

_First impressions... They define the way we see people: once and for all. He is a complicated, harsh man. But I'm not a gentle flower, too. Ah..._

It was when their palms met, as she felt it. Like a lightning: the feeling, which went from her hand, through her arm up to her spine. He looked at her, surprised, too. When she tried to remove her hand from his grasp, he didn't let her go.

_So used to getting what you want and how you want it, aren't you?._

After a moment, he released her but was still looking curiously. She decided to pay it no mind. After maybe a minute, he passed by her to stand by the chair at the table in the other room, where dwarfs have been already waiting. But only when she sat on the chair next to him, he sat, too. No one said a word and so she began...

All the time when she was speaking, she was focused on what she had to say. They had so much to do. So much to plan in details and so little time. Only on the back of her mind she registered, that Iorveth was brushing his leg against hers from time to time. That he was watching her more than focused, his eye never left her face, her lips...  
When she finished and their meeting concluded, she got up ready to leave. Iorveth hasn't pledged his bow nor the help of his Scoia'tael to her cause, yet. She glanced back at him when he followed her to the door.

_He looks like he is fighting hard with himself not to cross the line, which he wants to cross..._  
_Why am I thinking of him?_

She was almost opening the door, with her hand on the handle, as he said from behind her:  
“She is always right, isn't she?” – Iorveth stated more to himself.  
“Who?” – she turned once more to face him.  
“A friend of mine. But as to me and you... I will fight for you, Saesenthessis. Me and my men, we will follow you into battle and to whatever end.”

She nodded with all the grace she could muster and took a step to him. Then, she extended her hand. When he shook it, she felt this feeling again. She was fascinated by this cold-and-hot man, who looked at her with the same fascination. But his expression was warm now and the hand she shook was strong and caring.

_He may be the one to stand by my side, despite everything. Or... exactly because of everything that I am. He accepted me, knowing what I can become and he did not hesitate._

After the handshake, she retreated quickly and left.


	40. Caoimhe Feainn 1270

CAOIMHE

 

Feainn 1270  
Passiflora  
Novigrad

Fen was there, in their room, but she wasn't. She was lying leisurely in the bed, drinking wine, but... there was something so distant in her, that Caoimhe couldn't even name it. The sheets were a mess, they already had sex before and no one planned to call it a night just yet. But... It was Fen who started:  
“I killed a man today” – she said in a blank voice. It was just a statement.  
“You never talk about your work” – Caoimhe replied.  
“I've never done many things, but things change... I should have stayed here ten years ago and become one of you.”  
“Is that true?”  
“No... But maybe then I would have never met him. I would never... Oh, how I miss him...” – she paused and continued in a whisper after a long time: – “Come to me.”  
So she did. Fen touched her gently barely brushing her fingers against her skin. The touch made her shiver. Then, the younger woman was in between her thighs, pleasuring her with her tongue slowly, but surely. Soon, well-known hands were on her hips, tilting them for a better position.

_You always know how you want it. And you do it._

Caoimhe moaned softly when she was at her peak and she felt Fen's smile. Such a simple gesture, but it was the very reason why they were here as friends, lovers and no one paid for anything for a long time. She felt a bite on her stomach, then breasts and neck. When Fen's face was at the same level as hers they kissed passionately, but gently.

_You are different today... So much different._

When they were sitting together in the bed, Fen spoke again:  
“I am tired, Caoimhe. There is still so much to do, but I'm exhausted.”  
“Can you stop?”  
“No. This is the only thing that I cannot do.”  
“So what is your plan?”  
“To die...” – the answer was so shocking and said like something totally normal, that Caoimhe shivered before asking, if she heard correctly:  
“What?”  
“Nothing, my sweet blathien, nothing” – Fen's reassuring voice was not reassuring at all. But the younger woman smiled and inquired:  
“So, what now?”  
Caoimhe enjoyed just watching her come. Her fingers made they way to Fen's clitoris easily and she was moving them in a slow, circling motion. She brought her to the edge and stopped, inserting fingers of her other hand inside her. Fen moaned loudly. When the movements were resumed, she arched to her hand slightly, but not too much. Fen was distracted, but came, nonetheless. Her climax was as always: violent and holding nothing back.  
Just then, there was a knock on the door and the Seidhe shouted:  
“Taken. Can't you hear?”  
But the person on the other side of the door called:  
“It's me, Fen.”  
And Fen recognised her, shouting back:  
“Give us a moment” – as they both put the night-robes on she called: – “Come in!”

The woman, who came through the door was a dh'oine, but a beautiful one. Her golden blond hair was cut short, boyish style, but her face was graceful with big blue eyes. She was quite tall and slender, wearing trousers and a jacket. The daggers were similarly to Fen's: on her belt and ankle.

_A soldier, too..._

Fen greeted her:  
“Ves! This is Caoimhe” – she motioned to her. – “Is it urgent? Do you want to speak alone?”  
“No...” – Ves said with hesitation – “it's private. We can talk here. I've heard, that you are... but, I must say, that I'm still surprised.”  
“Do you want to join us? We are kind of experts here” – Fen said playfully.  
“No, thank you” – the other dh'oine said quickly. – “I mean... you are... but...” – she added.  
“Don't blush so sweetly, my friend. It's making us itchy” – her lover said, laughing heartedly.  
They all laughed at that, but fell silent after a while. Then, Ves took a deep breath and said:  
“I was thinking... to go there. I haven't had a chance to speak to him after... and I'm thinking of him, you know... Stupid woman.”  
“He said exactly the same the last time I've seen him.”  
“Oh...” – Ves said surprised.  
“But you cannot go now.”  
“I know. I...”

Then they heard music from downstairs. The female bard – Priscilla – was having a concert in the main hall. They heard only parts of the song, but still, Caoimhe's heart was clenching at the words:

_“These scars long have yearned for your tender caress._  
_To bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own_  
_Rend my heart open, then your love profess._  
_A winding, weaving fate to which we both atone”._

The two other women looked at each other strangely. When Fen spoke, her voice was tight:  
“I was thinking about it for a while and I hoped, that you would come to me and we would be able talk about the journey. But for now... take this, Ves” – she took off her silver ring with a lapis-lazuli gemstone – “they say, that the sky looks like lapis-lazuli out there. And they are right. I have my necklace to remember. I want you to have this to hope.”

Ves put the ring on her finger with trembling hands, but smiled.

_Hope is a strange thing. Sometimes it makes you stronger, sometimes it crashes you down._


	41. Saskia Yule 1271

SASKIA

 

Yule 1271  
the burnt village outside Vergen  
Aedrin

It was an hour after dusk. She was wandering the streets of Vergen, thinking hard of what she wanted.

_The Dragonslayer... the Virgin of Aedrin... the one they all would follow... is it all to be a lie? But does it really matter?_

Her feet took her to the burnt village on the outskirts of the city on their own. The Scoia'tael rebuilt few of the houses and they were perfectly inhabitable by now. She knew, that he was there. They were to meet tomorrow to talk some more about the rebellion, but... She took another sip of the wine from the bottle in her hand.  
When she was pacing back and forth outside the cottage, the door swung open and Iorveth's silhouette emerged. He had a raised eyebrow and a gentle smile on his lips, as he asked:  
“Did you bring me wine? I have some here, but still: thank you” – he joked but realizing, that she was in no mood for that, he gestured to inside of the cottage. – “Do you want to see the final redecorating?”  
After looking at her for a while, he went back inside, leaving the door open. As she stepped inside, he was already sitting at the table with two glasses filled with wine. The inferiors were truly elegant and so Aen Seidhe, that she smiled widely.  
“Do you like it?” – he asked and smiled at the memory of their first meeting.  
They were talking casually for a while, sitting by the table. He was looking at her intently. Something dark was emerging to his green eye from time to time, but he said nothing surprising for a long while. Just when there was a short moment of silence between them:  
“I know something we could do. But for that purpose, you would need to be undressed” – he said bluntly with a smirk. She gasped and chuckled nervously.  
“So this nickname is true...” – he trailed off. His face was concerned and resigned.  
“Yes” – she said quietly.  
“Forgive me for my bluntness, then. I'll do my best not to make you feel uncomfortable again” – Iorveth said and a gentle smile came back to his face. But his demeanour changed.

_He is doing everything to the fullest, isn't he? He was flirting with me with all of him. Now, I see how his face, body, even voice changed._

“I came here to feel uncomfortable” – she said and regretted it the second it escaped her mouth.  
He blinked a few times: pensive and surprised. He put a hand on his mouth, leaned on it on the table and scrutinised her with a narrowed eye. Then, he chuckled. Removing his hand from his face, he started:  
“Do I make you feel uncomfortable, Saskia?”  
“Yes” – she said with a challenge in her eyes.  
This time both of his hands were on his face covering his mouth. His expression was an illustration of confusion. But his eye remained pensive, focused.  
“If it is unpleasant, why did you invite me here? Obviously, it's much too early for any war council” – he said calmly, but many different emotions were displayed on his half-covered face.  
“It is not” – she gave him a small smile. – “I like your presence and I want more of you.”  
He looked at her while she was saying that, then leaned on the table, again. She saw something dark coming back to his eye, making him look more beautiful and more predatory at the same time. He sighed.  
“Luned, I am utterly lost in the maze of your thoughts, needs and desires. Tell me what you want from me and I'll give it to you. I'm at your service and you know it” – he said looking her straight in the eyes with a playful smile on his lips.  
She felt her tongue brushing involuntary her half-opened and dry lips. She wanted to lick them to speak, but the Seidhe in front of her chuckled teasingly and said:  
“I would be very pleased to do that.”  
She felt herself blushing: embarrassed, but excited at the same time. By his words, by the image she had in her mind when he spoke them.  
He stood up, encircled the table and stood next to her. Then, he leaned in and picked her up bridal-style and smiled fondly at her, carrying her to his bed. There he laid her on her back and knelt to take her shoes off. And well, being a fox, he put her legs on the two sides of his body... by a pure accident... then, leaned to rest his elbows on the edge of the bed in between those legs – very close to her tights and womanhood. With no protests from her, he laid both of his hands on her tights casually and looked at her, waiting patiently.  
She was blushing in anticipation. And she couldn't hide it.

_I want this... I want him... I just... Well... But how... Ah..._

“Knowing you a little bit I suggest we talk first. Before we will be past the point of no return” – he said slowly.  
“Yes. I wanted to suggest that” – she tried to sound like herself, but her chest was tightening.  
“So, I will undress you and please you in any way you want for how long you want. Nothing needs to happen later. I am absolutely not the one to push you to do anything you don't feel like doing. Interested?” – he gave her a cocky smile.  
“Yes.”  
After her approval, he removed all of her clothes. Gently, but with the expertise of a man who did it a hundred times.

_And he probably did._

In the process, he was kissing her and touching her gently. Something in his movements felt like he was doing this so delicately for the first time in a long time or maybe ever. When she was finally undressed, he whispered to her cleavage with adoration:  
“Hmm... Saesenthessis...” – while his breath lightly tickled her skin.  
And, at this, she moaned. She felt his lips sucking on her hard nipples and felt his hand wandering slowly to her clitoris. At the sensation of the hand of another person on her most intimate parts, she gasped and arched slightly to his touch. He moved with his tongue down her body, until he knelt back on the floor in front of her. While she was lying on the bed, he grabbed strongly her legs and pulled her to him, putting her feet up on the edge of the bed and her legs were beautifully spread in front of him now. Having her in this position, he lowered his lips and tongue to her womanhood. She yelped slightly, but the sound soon was replaced by the moan. Overwhelmed by the feeling, she didn't realise, that he was already pushing two of his fingers slowly inside her. She only registered his action, when he tilted them to stimulated her front wall. At that feeling, she moaned again and panted heavily.  
Her walls were opening slowly, but soon, they tightened around his fingers, when she reached her peak with a loud, high moan. He didn't move for a while, but then, leaving the fingers inside her, he straightened up and looked at her. At this moment, she met his eye with her own. She saw his swollen lips and something in him made her say almost involuntarily:  
“I want to do it with you” – she didn't look away this time after saying something so blunt, but looked at him with an uncertain smile.  
He closed his eye, panting. Then, he removed fingers from her and sat down on the bed next to her.

_Is he... counting?_

“Are you...?” – she started.  
“Counting... meditating?” – he asked with a little bit of irony in his voice, not looking at her. – “Yes” – then he tilted his body to her and opened the eye smiling at her fondly, as he said:  
“I want you too much, my dragoness. And I need to have better control over myself with you, that I'm accustomed to.”  
She got up and sat next to him. After another minute he said:  
“We do it your way and your pace” – moving to lay flat on his back. Still dressed, but kicking off his shoes.  
Saskia looked at him with mixed feelings. She was so confused, but... she wanted it. So, she turned around to straddle him and kissed him. He answered passionately. In this position, she could feel his desire and somehow, she stopped thinking and debating internally. She touched his upper body and removed his shirt, revealing the tattoo and his chest. She was exploring, what she saw for a while and then, she moved back up to his face. When she reached for his right cheek, covered with the bandanna, he froze and grabbed her wrist with a dangerous look in his eye.  
“Don't” – was the short, angry reply. But his anger was quickly replaced by a smile. He moved up to kiss her again. She respected his wish, obviously.

_You are afraid, too._

With this thought in her mind, she moved down. He helped her removing his trousers, socks and pants. Once he was completely naked, she looked at him again. His beautiful body was distorted by many more scars than the one, that met the eye. But, evidently, other scars didn't bother him at all and he allowed her to touch him without other limitations.  
He was patient, even if he was panting with difficulty sometimes. After a while, he grabbed her and pulled her down under him, swiftly positioning himself in between her tights. She whimpered, but relaxed at once at his gentle touch. He quickly kissed her, while his fingers travelled again to her intimate parts. He touched her, making her moan. Then, obviously satisfied with the results of his chased inspection, he grabbed her by the bottom and turned them both around, again, so she was on the top. But after this action, she was already straddling him, with the tip of his length at her entrance. When she glanced at him, he smirked, but did nothing, at first. Only when she smiled too and started to slowly lower her body, he put his fingers at her most sensitive spot. His action made her moan and her body started to move down on its own accord. They both closed their eyes at the sensation. For all this time, he didn't move anything but his hand. From time to time she heard his groans and his heavy breathing.  
When she hissed in pain, upper part of his body moved up and he was hugging her gently, kissing her face, lips and closed eyes. The sensation was a strange mixture of pain and pleasure, but soon, she covered him completely and stopped moving to take a breath. They were entangled like that for a while, just breathing. Then, he moved gently her body up and down, directing her movements. After she started to move on her own, he laid flat on his back.

_Oh... I want more..._

The pain was gone, replaced by a building pleasure: different... deeper... than she has ever felt before. They were moving like that – together – for a while. He removed one of his hands from her and put it on the bed, digging his fingers deep into the mattress in an attempt to control his reactions. The other hand was still moving, quite erratically now, on her most sensitive spot. He was panting almost like in pain, but did as promised – giving her her time and her way. When she was close to her climax, she dug her fingertips in his shoulders. She closed her eyes, but then heard his husky voice:  
“Look at me.”  
And so she did, until her head tilted back and her body arched to him, when she came with satisfied, but a bit surprised moan. He watched her calmly, perfectly still. She didn't get up. Instead, when she came back from her climax, she asked looking him in the eye:  
“Why didn't you come with me?”  
“Well, my little dragoness” – he said with a husky voice again. – “I am inexperienced in inexperience” – he chuckled. – “Right now, I'm even afraid to move, so that I wouldn't hurt you. I'm a rough man, Saesenthessis...”  
“But I want to live through the whole experience” – she replied.  
“In a learning mood, aren't we?” – he asked chuckling again, but concern was visible in his features.  
“Teach me” – she whispered, leaning in to kiss him again.  
After the last sentence, she felt him tense at first. Then, he grabbed her by the bottom and repositioned, rolling them to the side, so that she was lying on her back. He was watching her intently, while he started to move inside her slowly and gently. She answered with movements of her body. He was focused, accelerating and deepening his movements, ready to stop at her slightest hiss, but she enjoyed this new position immensely and soon was tightening around him again. He started to raise his eyebrows while grinning, when they came together, the sensation making them moan: her in pleasure, him in relief. He kissed her and removed the weight of his body from her, but stayed close, still stroking her gently.  
“The last line was truly manipulative, ma mienne” – Iorveth said with a smile and they both laughed. – “But it can get you anywhere with anyone” – he grinned even wider – “you are a born seductress...”  
“You're saying from experience?” – she smiled.  
“Obviously. I remember very fondly the first time I used the very same line many years ago” – he chuckled at the memory – “but it always works.”  
She didn't say anything.

_The way he talks about his previous women... Like there were hundreds. I'm not sure how it makes me feel._

After a while of silence, he looked at her questioningly and said:  
“Your innocence is, obviously, overwhelming me. But, I will ask this once and once only...” – Iorveth started.  
“I know. I'll drink it tomorrow, that is... if I can stay here” – Saskia started to be interrupted this time:  
“Obviously, but you must put something on...”  
“Why?”  
“I won't be able to sleep with you like that. I told you: I want you too much.”  
“We can...”  
“No. You will be sore in the morning as it is. We are going to sleep” – he replied with a small smile.  
They spoke no more, dressed up and went to sleep, hugging closely.


	42. Daelien Blathe 1271

DAELIEN

 

Blathe 1271  
Flotsam  
Temeria

There was a slaughter in the city. A pogrom. She ran with her parents to the docks in the hope of escaping the town. But there she saw a fight, too. Then, she noticed the fire in one of the buildings.

_I hate fire... There are women inside!_

Just when she realised that, the man with white hair ran inside. And after a while, they all jumped to the water below. But through the main door of the building the figure was escaping – Loredo. He was running away. Everyone was so captivated by the fire and rescue, that they didn't even realise, that the commandant was followed by a hooded figure.  
Daelien was still standing with her family, watching the ship with the Scoia'tael commando - led by Iorveth, the famous Woodland Fox - sailing to the main stream of the river.

_It's too late..._

Her parents were Scoia'tael once, too. She remembered. But not long after the fire, they decided to try to live in peace. And now, well...

_We are going to die without weapons in our hands._

Daelien saw the same figure emerging from behind the buildings in the docks, heading to the sail-boat. Then, she recognised her and ran barely hearing the shouting of her parents. When close enough, so only she could hear her, the Seidhe girl shouted:  
“Aenyell'hael!”  
The woman turned around with murder in her eyes, which made Daelien froze. But then, she recognised her, too:  
“You are the girl on fire, aren't you?” – the woman asked in gentle voice.  
“No... you are. I was in the fire and you saved me.”

They were both silent for a while. Then Fen said:  
“I must go, take care, Daelien.”  
“We must go, too” – she replied.

They were joined by her parents and both smiling knowingly:  
“Fen...”  
“Ysmen, Finnael. Ceád'mil” – Fen looked at them for a long while. She was thinking, debating internally, but in the end she stated:  
“Daelien told me, that you want to go. I have a boat.”  
“Where are you heading to?” – her father asked.  
“Not here, come aboard.”

So they did. Saved by a miracle, again. It was after a long while, on the Pontar river, when her mother said:  
“You changed your hair.”  
“Yes. How do you like it?” – Fen answered  
“Black suits you. If I may ask: what were you doing in Flotsam?”  
“Meeting Loredo.”  
“And how it went?” – her father asked seemingly lightly, but there was uncertainty in his voice.  
“Very good, actually. But I'm afraid, the he wouldn't agree” – Fen answered with a smirk.  
“Why?”  
“He's dead. A terrible accident... he may have fallen on my dagger.”

There was silence before all of them laughed a terrible, dark laugh. But she saw the relief in her parents' eyes. Her father inquired further, but this time in a relaxed voice:  
“Are these kind of accidents happening frequently to you?”  
“Oh... yes, however they're always a little bit different, you know: a drowning here, a fire there, some poisoning from time to time. Nothing special” – Fen replied smiling again, but it was an exhausted smile.  
For a moment her parents looked as if they thought, that she was joking. But it was her cold eyes, which proved otherwise. She was truly killing people. Her mother tried to change the subject:  
“Where are your men?”  
“The one, whom you knew? Most of them are dead, only Caden and Easbeth are still riding with me. Now, they have their own accidents to take care of. But we'll meet all twelve in the place, where we are heading to.”  
“And where is that?” – her mother continued, curious.  
“Vergen. But first, we need to find the sleeping Scoia'tael commando in the East. They will need every bow.”

And she was right, obviously. The battle would turn into massacre if she didn't find Iorveth just in time to come back with him and the commando they've gathered to the fight.

_My first battle... and my last... There is a better life to live and I want it._


	43. Geralt Feainn 1271

GERALT

 

Feainn 1271  
Loc Muinne  
the Blue Mountains

_How did I end up in these dungeons... Ah... I remember: one particularly irritating elf tying to save the woman he cares for... Maybe even loves... Saskia, how did you end up under this fucking spell? I should've seen it coming. Well... it's too late for that now._

He looked around and scanned his surroundings. He ended up in the dungeon all right. As he said: it would be easy. As Iorveth said: he was shackled and he didn't have his weapons.

_Great._

Then, he heard a voice:  
“You? Here?” – it was Phillipa Eilhart, speaking from the other side of the bars. Locked, too... as they had heard.

This was how their little chit-chat started. But it was soon interrupted by the arrival of no other, but king Radovid himself, accompanied by the Nilfgaardian ambassador Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen. And neither of them were happy. Geralt didn't like Phillipa, but what had happened to her... it wasn't right. Radovid blinded her, cruelly. And for what?  
But then, out of no where arrows flew. Many. Redanian soldiers and the Nilfgaardians were killed on the spot. Radovid was mortally wounded, but not dead, yet. He fell to the ground and when he did from the shadows a figure emerged. The person was cloaked in black, in a mask and a hood. He or she was carrying a long, double-arc bow and two swords crossed at the back. The figure opened the lock of the bars and approached Radovid. Geralt saw the mask and hood removed, revealing medium-cut raven-black hair of a woman. He recognised her and the dying king did, too:  
“Lyanna Elia marquess von Reichenbach... I loved you” – he whispered with difficulty and pain.  
“You desired me, Radovid, and these are two completely different things. And now, the only thing I truly desire is your death. Say: Hello! To your father from me. Ah...” – she paused – “I would forget, Phillipa didn't kill him - I did.”  
“And what do you know of love, Lyanna?”  
“Not much. But I know, that it makes you do things for the person you love, not to this person.”  
With her final words, she slit his throat and said calmly:  
“Two last. At last. Impossible...”

The woman turned around and he saw her face: beautiful, with pale complexion, sensual lips and piercing eyes. But her expression was concerned. Iorveth came running just a second later:  
“What...?” – he started.  
“No time for a chit-chat” – the woman replied.  
“We need to go” – Geralt stated.

Outside the tunnels the ruthless, all-knowing and hot-headed Scoia'tael commander asked in a shaking voice, so unlike his usual tone:  
“How did he call you?”  
The silence was his answer.  
“Fen! How did he call you?” – he repeated in a shaking and shocked voice.  
“By my full birth name: Lyanna Elia marquess von Reichenbach. But we have no time, Iorveth. Go to Phillipa's house, you need to free Saskia and I'll go on my way. We'll meet soon.”

After she said that, she was gone. Geralt looked confused at the Seidhe and asked:  
“You let her go. Why?”  
“I trust her.”  
“Why?”  
“There are many things, which you don't know, Gwynbleidd. Now, come. She said she will be back and so she will... in her own time.”

The elf's answers were mysterious and short - not really convincing, but Geralt decided to let it go... for now. They moved together with shackled and blinded Phillipa Eilhart to the centre of the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam Skorupa, Krzysztof Wierzynkiewicz „Assassins of Kings”


	44. Fen Saovine 1272

FEN

 

Saovine 1272  
Pyll Bredh (Pláta Foraoise)

The Plateau by this time of the year was cold, too. But not freezing, thankfully. There were just a few spruces, but both - she and Iorveth - felt better than on the Pass. They made a camp near trees and started a small fire.  
After they finished eating, she looked at him and asked:  
“I ended with the death of my parents, didn't I?”  
“Yes, but Fen, you don't need to...”  
“No more” – she stopped him. – “I do and I want to... My childhood and my early youth were not perfect, mind you, but good and happy. It was when I turned sixteen and I was presented at the debutante ball in Tretogor when the horror started” – she looked into the fire.

There was a long pause, during which only sounds of the fire could be heard.  
“I've met the crown prince, Radovid. In the beginning, I liked him: he was young and handsome. I confess to even more: in the beginning, I was flattered by his attention. But soon, he – the one so used to get whatever he wanted – desired more. Desired to take me: there and then, during the ball in his bedroom. And he did, obviously” – she paused. – “I wouldn't say, that I didn't want it – I did. And I wouldn't say, that he hurt me, though... he just simply didn't care much and rushed things... Either way, afterwards, we came back to the ball: like nothing ever happened. He was watching me all the time, almost didn't allow anyone else to dance with me. My parents quickly realised, that something had happened and took me home. Once there, I told them everything with no remorse: I consented and I didn't regret it... too much. My father was furious, I had never seen him like that before, but I calmed him down. Then, my mother, who was an elven-witch, not really powerful, but still... She used her magic to make sure, that I would be infertile until someone lifts the spell, which she put on me. She was always the one to think quickly and to evaluate all of the possible consequences. I got it from her” – she smiled a very sad smile. Then she continued:  
“But Radovid didn't give up and one night wasn't enough for him: he became obsessed. He showered me with gifts, letters... name it. If I was this kind of a woman to sell myself for things like that, I would probably be the wealthiest person alive by now. But I was stupid enough to stubbornly refuse his advances. I was so arrogant, that I believed, that a woman can live her life by her own rules and get away with in this men's world...” – she laughed darkly.

She stood up and went to get some water. When she sat back, she continued calmly:  
“After a while, his father - king Vizimir - came himself to demand, that I go to the court to become Radovid's official mistress. By then, he had been already engaged to Adda the White, princess of Temeria. My father refused in strong and not so polite words. The king left and I thought, no - I hoped, that the whole ordeal had ended. I was so wrong.”

 

_Imbaelk 1259_  
_Palace aen Lleuad_  
_near Cinfrid_  
_Redania_

_The von Reichenbach family was sitting in the dining room by the dinner: Makenna and Aelenil at the opposite sides of the table and their daughter, Lyanna, in the middle. They were chatting and laughing at some trifle things. The fire in the fireplace was burning merrily._  
_Suddenly, the wallet came and announced in a worried voice:_  
_“My lord, my lady... the prince and ten men are waiting downstairs for the young lady to go with them to Tretogor.”_  
_“Lyanna, Makenna, run upstairs” – her father stated and took his sword from the wall._  
_“Dad... I will go...”_  
_“No discussion. Do as you were told” – he said harshly, but then he cupped her face with a free hand and said:_  
_“I'm so proud of you, my girl. One day, you'll be whomever you chose to be. You'll fight and you'll survive. Living and dying by your own rules. Now go, my child...”_  
_After that, he got up, kissed her mother fiercely for the last time and went to the door._  
_And so they ran. Once upstairs, she took her bow, her swords, some money and gemstones, which her mother gave her. She realised, that her parents were long prepared for this. But they didn't run from this cursed kingdom, both too proud not to face the storm head first._  
_“Now, luned: to the balcony and to the maze. From there, you must go straight to my family in Roggeveen. They will help you.”_  
_When they heard the fight downstairs, her mother hugged her closely and said:_  
_“I will always love you, my little bird. I'll love you and I'll watch over you. You are a strong, young woman and one day you'll achieve whatever you want. One day, you'll be happy. And one day, you'll do things no one believed possible. You are the sun, never forget it. Don't mourn us, cause we died for the most important person in our world and it's the best death of all. And remember your necklace, it will not only cover any scar you may have, but if you squeeze it and think hard how you would like to look, it may slightly change your appearance. The Aen Seidhe blood will protect you. And the ring” – she removed a lapis-lazuli ring from her finger – “take it, too. Now run!”_  
_When the girl was on the balcony her mother shut the door. It was through the window, that she saw few men running in and her mother taking her own life, setting the raging fire in Lyanna's bedroom and vertically cutting her own wrists. She didn't cry yet. She ran to make sure, that the sacrifice made by her parents would not be in vain._

_She stopped deep in the forest. She laid on the ground and cried so hard, that she couldn't breathe any more. Then, she heard footsteps and barely seeing, she aimed her bow asking through chokes:_  
_“Who's there?”_  
_“A witcher, child. My name is Vesemir. Are you all right?”_  
_With Vesemir she was travelling for a long time. She knew, that if she went to Roggeveen she would bring death to her mother's family. She was homeless and alone, but for Vesemir, who cared for her for many months teaching her all that he knew. He grew close to the girl, too. He called her a little bird, just as her mother had done and she called him uncle._  
_It was in Acorn Bay, in Saovine in 1260, when she decided to stay and work in the tavern, while Vesemir went back for the winter to Kaer Morhen. They separated when Vesemir got on the ship, which was sailing up the Pontar river. They've never met again._

 

Neither Fen nor Iorveth spoke another word. He got up and went to their blankets and she followed him. Then, he spooned her, hugging her closely. They both couldn't sleep for a very long time.


	45. Fen Saovine 1272

FEN

 

Savione 1272  
Hapësirë-Boshe (Tir Diffaith)

The great wastelands were quiet, almost no life could be found there. Fen and Iorveth made a camp with heavy hearts. This place was always dangerous. But before they went to sleep, she continued:  
“Where were I? Ah... Acorn Bay. You will like this part of the story. You may not believe this, but it was no other, but Vernon Roche - now a special forces commander, head of the infamous Blue Stripes, but then... just a soldier on his first mission as a spy, who discovered me” – she chuckled softly. – “We had a quite interesting conversation when I brought him his beer and fish and chips. I saved his life later and almost killed him. But he convinced me, that he is much more useful to me alive than dead. He brought me straight to his king, Foltest.”

She paused and looked at to the horizon to the West. After a while, she resumed her story:  
“As you probably guess, I have been quite wary of kings by then, but he was my only chance for the revenge and I took it.”

 

 _Feainn 1260_  
_the Royal Palace_  
_Wizima_  
_Temeria_

 _If she wasn't who she was, she would probably be impressed by the splendour of the palace in Wizima. But she lived in a palace herself, or rather had lived... The great halls and rich decorations didn't impress her much. Moreover, she decided, that Temerian kings didn't have much of a taste. Well..._  
_She was led to an office and there he was – king Foltest himself. She had met him only once when she was in Wizima with her parents. She was fourteen then... maybe thirteen... He looked at her pensively and spoke:_  
_“I've seen you before. You look a lot like your mother, Marquess. However, I've heard recently, that you are dead. There was a fire in the Palace aen Lleuad...”_  
_She was caught off guard by her worst nightmare coming true._

_I risked too much too soon. How could he recognise me? Ah... my mother... was too desirable to forget. Fuck!_

_But Foltest smiled reassuringly:_  
_“Forgive me, I must have taken you for someone else. What is your name?”_  
_“Catelyn.”_  
_“Good, nice to meet you, Catelyn. Vernon told me, that you have certain skills and let's say: predispositions, which I'm looking for. Do you want to work for me?” – he asked smiling._  
_“Yes” – she replied in a strong voice._  
_“Excellent. You'll be my secret weapon. Under many names and with many faces you'll be my non-existent spy and assassin. You'll set fire where I ask you, but mostly: in Redania” – the king said in a dreamy voice._  
_“For how long?”_  
_“Let's say five years... Five years of life with a purpose, resources and safe from him. Then, you'll have the life to which you were born.”_  
_“Means what?” – she asked in a wary voice._  
_“Money, home, title, revenge” – he said with a cocky smile. – “I respected both of your parents, greatly. So in addition, after five years, I'll grant you one wish. Whatever you'll ask of me, in reasonable limits, obviously. Agreed?”_  
_“Thank you, Your Grace. I am in debt” – she said honestly, bowing deep._  
_“Indeed, you are” – he replied sternly._

 

After this story, Fen looked at Iorveth and read his mind:  
“And I know what you are thinking. The answer is: yes, he sent me to you three years later. To work with the Scoia'tael. To help you to make chaos in Redania and to infiltrate your ranks. To get to know you better... Specifically, it was Triss Merigold, Foltest's time-to-time advisor, who sent me in the direction of White Bridge and Flotsam - to Coinneach... and we both know how it ended.”  
She looked at him again with a sad expression before she spoke further:  
“And as to the famous ride from Brokilon... Ordinary soldiers didn't know me. It was a piece of luck, that we rode out from the forest alive and a mile later we met Vernon Roche with his Blue Stripes. If we didn't... Well, the soldiers would probably get to us and kill us one by one. Vernon - my commanding officer, who outranked me - was not happy, though. Did I say not happy? He was raging” – Fen chuckled. – “He suspected, that I overstepped and went far beyond my duties that day: and you must know – his intuition is almost always right. Thankfully, he didn't discover the whole story and had no proof, but I knew, that I wouldn't be allowed to go back to you. I messed up and I couldn't lie my way out of it, especially, since it was Vernon, who truly taught me how to lie... I was right to assume, that this could be, or even plausibly it would be, a goodbye. I tell you more: even though Vernon saved me and my men, had he realised, that we helped you to get to Cintra, I would be facing execution. But he... always liked me” – Fen paused, pensive – “I'm not sure if it was only platonic or sometimes... Still, he didn't look deeper into the matter. Either way, we were permanently assigned to slow Nilfgaardian march and we were ordered to kill on the spot any Scoia'tael we would encounter. As you guess... we became selectively blind and deaf. We avoided any possibility to meet you. But spending more time in the cities allowed as to forge interesting friendships, too. For example: I've met Saskia, it was in Birke in 1268 in Maribor. This girl! Well... let's say, that she had plans. When I heard her out I knew, that for learning them I could be executed or I could receive an order. I pondered for a long time before I spoke to Adda the White - Foltest's daughter - about them. We hed meeting during your stay in Drakenborg” – Fen chuckled again, this time at his expression.

 

 _Feainn 1268_  
_the Royal Palace_  
_Wizima_  
_Temeria_

 _When she learned about the Peace of Cintra she decided, that she must try. That day, she was standing in front of a mirror. Underneath, she was wearing exquisite, laced lingerie. Which was terribly uncomfortable, too. She was watching her reflection: in her best, elegant and covering, deep-blue dress. She put make-up and made her hair. She knew why she was going there and she accepted that... Looking like she did, she went to the king's chambers. When she entered, he was sitting at his desk. As he heard the sound of her high heels, he looked at her and was dumbfounded. When he spoke, it was no more than a whisper:_  
_“Catelyn...”_  
_“Your Grace...” – she bowed deep, dropping on her knees._  
_“Rise! What are you doing?” – he asked standing up, deeply shocked by her action._  
_“I came to ask you for a favour and when one comes to beg, one stays on the knees.”_  
_“What favour?” – he inquired confused, encircling the desk and coming closer to her._  
_“Eight years ago you promised to grant me one wish after five years of my service. I did everything you asked and I worked for three more years. And...” – she started looking him in the eyes – “I am at your disposal, if you agree to do, what I'll ask you to do...”_  
_“You are very secretive and you are offering yourself to me so openly... I won't like what I'll hear, of that, I'm already sure. But I gave my word and I'll keep it. What do you want?”_  
_“Spare lives of the officers of the Vrihedd Brigade. I'll arrange it, just agree to it.”_  
_“You came to me” – he started slowly – “even though, we both know well, that you could just do it on your own. Why?”_  
_“I'm loyal to you, Your Grace” – she said and looked him in the eyes, again._  
_Upon hearing that, he approached her and crouched in front of her. He brushed his fingers against her cheek, but retreated like he was afraid of what he may do next. Then, he said in a voice heavy with concealed lust:_  
_“I desire you and I cannot hide it. You coming to me willingly, was one of the dark and deep desires of my heart for a long time. You know it well... There is probably no man in this world, who would refuse you, invited so bluntly as you just did. And many wouldn't wait for the invitation. But... I won't take what you are offering, because you shall have known better than to do it in the first place. Unless..”. – he trailed off. – “You've fallen in love with one of them, haven't you? You would do absolutely anything to save him, but one thing: you wouldn't break your word and you pledged your loyalty to me all those years ago. You would sell your body and your soul for the slightest chance to save his life.”_

 _The dead silence fell. The king was still looking her deep in the eyes, while he asked:_  
_“Which one?” – she didn't answer at once, but after a moment she spoke:_  
_“All of them. I won't choose and I won't hurt him like that.”_  
_“It's not what I asked. I agree to grant your wish, under further reservations, but I want to know: which one?”_  
_“Isengrim Faoiltiarna.”_  
_“Does he know?”_  
_“There is nothing to know.”_  
_“I thought so... Is he worth it?”_  
_“I do not care.”_  
_“Of course... You are the most complicated woman I know, Catelyn and you are pathologically loyal... I... we: me and Vernon, we had our... suspicions after Brokilon. Now at least, I know why you allowed them to go to Cintra. Why you allowed them to fight against my soldiers, my men and you risked the very existence of my Kingdom.”_  
_“I also warned you about the Vrihedd Brigade and I helped you to muster forces, which stopped Nilfgaard. If it wasn't for me the Redanians wouldn't get to Brenna in time. I didn't betray you, Your Grace.”_  
_“You did. But then, you cleaned up your own mess. You were and still are playing a dangerous game. The one, that even you cannot foresee the outcome of. I should execute you for the high treason” – he said slowly._  
_“So do it” – she replied – “but after you'll keep your word.”_  
_“You are in no position to make demands.”_  
_“No. I'm on my knees to beg you and to offer you everything in return” – she replied calmly._  
_They were both silent. Foltest was fighting hard internally and she could see emotions whirling on his face. She knew, what will happen next, but waited patiently._

 _“Rise up” – he said, standing up himself – “and sit by the window.”_  
_She did as ordered, although the order was not what she expected it to be. She was almost sure, that he would ask her to undress, but... He went to write something on his desk. In the process, he was looking for various papers in drawers. After a long while, he motioned to her to come to him. Then, he handed her a list. On the list in the left column – there were 35 names of the Aen Seidhe officers, in the right column – 35 names of seemingly random persons. The list of people to assassinate. She scanned it swiftly. Coinneach name was accompanied by Nilfgaardian officer and a spy himself, Declan Winterbach. Iorveth's by the ambassador Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen. And Isengrim's... by Radovid V the Stern. The impossible task. She knew it and he did, too. When she looked at him, he stated slowly:_  
_“I'm not a cruel man, but I literally hold their lives in my hands and I wouldn't give this power up easily. They were murdering my people and you know it well. But I'll grant your wish, if you swear to grant mine. You are an exceptional assassin and officially you don't exist. If you are caught: there is nothing, that can link you to me. This is simple quid pro quo: a life for a life. For every spared I want you to bring me one dead. Or die trying, but die silently. I like you, always had and I'll regret letting you go today, but...”_  
_“I get it. I won't be caught alive. Dead men tell no tales.”_  
_“And Adda will know” – he added. – “Just to be sure, that you'll finish the job. Just keep in mind: you are not the only assassin in the world”._  
_“I know.”_  
_“And... you'll have your revenge. Isn't it what you wanted for the last ten years?” – he asked. Then he added:_  
_“I want your loyalty to me and my Kingdom, to my daughter and our plans more than I want you. And... I believe, that letting you go today is more than a punishment. We both know, that you'll pay for your games, one way or another. Just when you realise, that there is no way back to them and you decide to come back to me - know, that you are coming willingly and I will take the invitation you extended today.”_  
_Hearing that, she knew, that she had already lost, just when she thought she could win._

 

Iorveth was looking at her with unseeing eyes. And she knew what he was thinking: all it cost her...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Within Temptation „Shot in the Dark”


	46. Triss Yule 1263

TRISS

 

Yule 1263  
Wyzima  
Temeria

She was not the king's advisor, yet. Still, king Foltest asked for her assistance from time to time and she was getting there step-by-step. Now, that she heard his plan... Well... it was better than she would grant him being capable of. He wanted Redanian throne, he obviously didn't say that, but planning to marry his daughter to Radovid and creating a vast network of spies in the other kingdom at the same time meant only one thing: plans for taking the kingdom in the future.  
But as for now... she had never met the girl. She heard some things about her, of course, but not much. What meant, that she was good at her job. A spy, an assassin, even a mercenary – it was quite a resume for such a young person. But even more importantly: she was said to be beautiful enough to fool anyone.

_Let's see... Now, I understand..._

When she opened the door to the chamber, she immediately saw a woman standing by the window. She was wearing black and crimson, both colours fitting her very well. And she was... attractive... desirable. Not extremely beautiful, but there was something in her, something wild and cold, but at the same time making your thoughts whirl in strange directions. Additionally, there were no visible scars on the parts of her body, which Triss saw. Still standing with her back to the sorceress, she stated:  
“You must be Triss Merigold. It is an honour.”  
“The honour is all mine. You must be Catelyn” – she replied.  
After the introduction, Catelyn turned around and smiled mysteriously.

_Yes... Definitely... She can fool anyone... With that face and those eyes! Gods, she would even seduce me if she chose to... Foltest was right. If he knows anything about anything... he knows a lot about men wanting women, that's for sure._

Triss continued:  
“You have quite rounded ears but a lot in your appearance makes you look more like an elf. Care to tell me your secret?”  
“I'm telling no secrets of my own, Triss. But you are right, I'm an inh'eid. The most cruel joke nature played on me was giving me this curse at my birth: to be desirable equally for both dh'oine and Aen Seidhe... To look familiar and exotic in the right proportions” – the girl answered with sarcasm.  
“Is it a curse?” – the sorceress inquired.  
“Beauty... well... those who lack it - desire it more than anything, those who lost it - mourn it bitterly, but those who have it - must live with the consequences. It's easy to lust for beauty and this is exactly what makes the person more an object of desires than a human being. The beauty dehumanizes you in the eyes of the world.”  
“But, it can also be used as a tool, as a weapon.”  
“Then you get ahead of the world, dehumanizing yourself before they do. Yes, it is true.”

They spoke for a long time about the task at hand. After a long pause, Catelyn stated:  
“Am I to fight for their cause?”  
“No, just find out as much as you can. Get to know them better. That is all” – Triss replied.  
“But they'll never trust me, unless they see me and my men as allies. I must fight.”  
“So fight. Just not too much, we don't want to weaker Redania...”  
“Don't we?” – the other woman more asked than stated, her voice saying more than her words.  
They fell silent. The young woman knew much more than she revealed. And it was good: she needed to know what is her true task. Triss looked her in the eyes and said:  
“It won't be easy, I know.”  
“But not impossible” – was the reply.  
“No man could do this” – she stated.  
“But we are not men, are we?” – the other woman asked.  
They both smiled knowingly.

_No, we are not._

Then the sorceress spoke once more:  
“Go to White Bridge or Flotsam. I've heard, that a strong commando is stationed there. It's a good place to start.”

Catelyn nodded pensively and Triss wondered if this was the last time she saw her. If she just sent this young woman to a terrible death.


	47. Adda Feainn 1271

ADDA THE WHITE

 

Feainn 1271  
Loc Muinne  
the Blue Mountains

The silence in the tent was tense. The official conference had just ended: Adda became the Queen of Redania and Temeria, as she wanted for a very long time. Soon, due to Henselt's death, she would reach for Kaedwen, too.

_Roche... my father could always count on you and I plan to do the same. But you may never know so many things... This is why I needed her: Catelyn, Fen, Lyanna..._

The Pontar Valley was granted independence, as was planned.

_You are a heartless murderer and a traitor but you have a soft spot, don't you? For the disadvantaged, for everyone who is helpless but ready to fight. It's so good, that you are loyal to us, otherwise... you could truly change everything._

She looked pensively at Lyanna for a long time. There was only one person in the tent, but for the two women – Iorveth, the Woodland Fox. He was standing tall and proud, looking at the Queen with a challenge in his eye. She said to him:  
“You helped to murder my father.”  
“He was murdering my people” – was his reply.  
“I granted independence for the Pontar Valley” – she continued.  
“You would never be able to claim two crowns, if it wasn't for us” – he motioned to himself and Lyanna.  
“True...”

Silence fell again. No one really knew how the meeting would go, but they came: Lyanna and Iorveth, either way. Ready to accept the consequences for the greater good.

_He is an honourable man, too. In his own way._

Lyanna spoke soon after:  
“My Queen, if anyone is to blame - it's me. I came to you with the plan to involve the sorceresses and it was me, who failed to see the danger.”  
“It's true. But what am I to do with you? You played your cards well, we achieved our goals. We all make mistakes... Am I to hang you for yours? No” – she stated pensively. – “Still, I must exile you, Lyanna. From both of my Kingdoms. You are not to come back until you are summoned back and if you are – you must answer. Nevertheless, I held your debt paid. The lives you wanted to spare are safe now.”  
“Thank you, Your Grace.”  
Lyanna closed her eyes, but bowed low.

It was Iorveth, who started after a long silence and with difficulty:  
“I will never say, that I regret killing a dh'oine king. But... I lost a father, too.. long time ago. And you helped us knowing, that the Scoia'tael are responsible for his death. I will say it only once: I'm sorry for the death of your father and I'm grateful for your assistance.”  
“Thank you, Iorveth” – she replied pensively – “and I'm sorry for what was happening to your people in my Realms. It will change, I give you my word. After all, we were all fooled by Emhyr var Emreis to some extent. Things, that happened during the last year, they are my fault, too.”

To her utter surprise, the Aen Seidhe came to her and extended his hand. She shook it.

_So it is a new beginning. The new sun will rise tomorrow. With Saskia and... maybe even Enid aen Gleanna for the right price, we might challenge the existing order, even get Cintra and Sodden back... But, so many things may go wrong, as well... I may be the one, who achieved what the kings couldn't for ten years... Adda I the Avenger...it does have a nice cling to it..._

When they left the Redanian-Temerian camp, the Queen of both Kingdoms looked at Lyanna, who was still confused.

_She is free, but what it gives her? Where would she go? Is there a place she can call home, now? What would she do without the constant burden of her pledge and her oath? She laboured so hard to get back what was taken from her and I banned her from it, again..._

The Queen was brought back to reality by Iorveth, who started:  
“Fen...” – with concern in his voice.  
“I'm just thinking... I was travelling for the last thirteen years of my life. Without a place I could call home. What will I do now, exiled again?”  
At this, her men emerged, coming with Ves and greeted Lyanna and Iorveth with wide smiles on their faces. Iorveth looked at Fen again and wanted to say something, but had no time. Saskia was approaching them all slowly.  
“Excuse me” – he said and went to her.

He was gone just for a few minutes, when he was back, he said to her:  
“Saskia will be honoured to speak with you, Your Grace. She is waiting in the city.”  
“I'll be right there” – was her reply. – “And you, Iorveth, are you not coming with me? We will discuss Vergen and you are considered an interested party, as well.”  
“I'm not going back to Vergen” – was the short, much to harsh reply. All looked at him shocked and she raised her eyebrows.  
“I...” – he didn't need to apologise and he didn't plan to. But he offered an explanation with a sigh: – “She might have found me a while ago with a... ahem... male friend. And unlike some, she didn't consider this kind of relationship not-cheating.”

After his words, she was obviously shocked, but then laughed merrily:  
“The Aen Seidhe and their free love. I envy you that...”  
“You should talk to Fen, then” – he said laughing, too.  
“I...” – she blushed – “I will consider it.”  
“I won't be here for you by then, my Queen” – said Fen looking teasingly. – “But in Passiflora there are two very good and trustworthy friends of mine. Say that Fen sends you for the best lilies in the city and Madame will know” – after that, she was even more shocked and Fen added quickly – “We are sorry, Your Grace. We shouldn't...”  
“Don't be” – she replied to her own surprise. – “I'm free now, too” – and at that, she smirked.  
They all smiled at each other and Iorveth said to Fen:  
“We are all going home. Your home is and always will be with us, far away from here” – he said. – “But first: you and I, we are going to meet someone in Vengerberg. We need to spread the story of our deaths.”

After that, they all said their goodbyes and while she went to the city, the rest went to the South. Fen's men and Ves – going straight to their destination, while Fen and Iorveth were to follow closely.


	48. Fen Lammas 1271

FEN

 

Lammas 1271  
the cottage outside Vengerberg  
Aedrin

She was standing, looking with unseeing eyes at the wall. The cottage was nice and clean, there were food and clothing ready for the travelling Scoia'tael. The dh'oine taking care of it was truly eager to repay his debt. But you can't repay a life-debt, so he was ready to stand on his watch as long as the last fighting Scoia'tael needed his help. An impressive man. No wonder, that even Iorveth was fond of him. Iorveth... the Seidhe came into the cottage just a few minutes after her and closed the door. She heard that, but now he was as motionless as her...  
She would lie if she said, that during the last year - especially travelling to Vergen and to Loc Muinne with him - it was easy for her to stay true to her resolution – to keep their relationship platonic. Nothing happened between them, but she was thinking, wondering...

_How would it taste like? Would you fuck me hard, rough, with no emotions whatsoever? Can we still be shallow and empty as we were when we've met? Have we grown more considerate and caring? Or maybe after what we've done at Brenna, Vergen and in many other locations - this is the only way both of us can make love? Without care for anything, chasing our own pleasure with abandon?_  
_Cerbin and Crevan... we both made legends of ourselves throughout the last year. Death in the shadows and death in the forest. But, it was as we resurfaced when we opened the true hell – Vergen, where the streets of the city were flooding in the blood of our enemies. We were fighting a full-scale battle side by side for the first time..._  
_You were my sword and shield..._

But then, she was always angry at herself for the mere thought about another man.

_I always thought it would be him... Isengrim always in the back of my mind... The hope, that he is still mine as I am his._

Just then, the mere memory of the conversation from an hour ago became unbearable.

 

_Lammas 1271_  
_an hour ago_  
_the slums of Vengerberg_  
_Aedrin_

_She was sitting with Iorveth behind the tavern. Maybe not the worst tavern it was, but still... Either way, they couldn't go inside with Iorveth's face as recognisable as it was. They left a message a while ago, in the appointed place and now they were waiting for another dh'oine, allay to Scoia'tael, if he was still alive. While they were waiting Iorveth started casually:_  
_“So we are going home and you are going back to him.”_  
_“Yes, if he would still want me” – she replied._  
_“He will. Are you planning to tell him the truth about things?”_  
_“Yes, most of them at least” – she looked at the Seidhe next to her. – “The way is long, I'll tell you everything on our way, too” – she smiled uncertainly._  
_“You don't need to. I trust you unconditionally, Fen.”_

_Fen... But no: sor'ca. Since when did he stop calling me that? The road to Vergen, the road to the battlefield._

_“I know. But I want. I...” – but her words were cut short by the steps, quiet whistle and a voice._  
_The silhouette of a blond-hair man came from around the corner:_  
_“Fox!”_  
_“Peter!” – the man's name sounded strange in the Seidhe's mouth, but was spoken with true fondness. – “May I introduce, this is Fen” – Iorveth motioned to her._  
_“A living legend!” – the man said looking at her in admiration, while she shook his hand. – “I've heard many stories about you! And it was even before the charge out of Brokilon and then...! The veteran of Vergen! It's a true honour!”_  
_“Thank you. Doing my best” – was her polite reply._  
_“How are things, Pete?” – Iorveth asked._  
_“The cottage is still intact, most of Scoia'tael are hidden relatively in safety. In the city there is peace for now” – the man said. – “All in all, things are good. And are much better since I met Wolf and heard what had happened” – he said looking with growing admiration at Fen._  
_“He was here? When?” – Iorveth inquired._  
_“More than a year ago. I thought, that I was hallucinating when I saw this face of his! I almost had a heart attack... but he brought such good news, that you are alive, almost all of you!” – Peter answered with a grin. – “He found his lover from before the war – Neilina. A true beauty, I must tell you, even for a Seidhe. The long, chestnut hair and well... this body! Hmm” – Peter cleared his throat and stopped. – “I didn't mean to be disrespectful, I was just admiring the beauty and our friend's taste” – he added quickly, seeing Fen's and Iorveth's faces and reading them wrong._  
_“It's not that, Peter” – Iorveth calmed him down – “we just didn't expect him to venture to the cities” – and he lied smoothly._  
_“He was wearing a necklace” – Peter replied.– “The one he got from a friend. His scar was invisible and well, it made him almost unrecognisable. Either way, they stayed in the cottage for a while and he said, that they are going home. I don't know, what he meant. But he was talking about the house he was building, I guess for them, at length. Who would say: a living legend dreaming only about home, family and peace..”._  
_They were conversing for a while after that, but Fen was dumbfounded. When Iorveth took her hand, entangled his fingers with hers and led her out of the city - she didn't even react. Peter was walking with them, chatting merrily with Iorveth, who was glancing at her from time to time. But she had no facial expression whatsoever. With the cottage in sight, Iorveth said:_  
_“Fen, take the key” – and put the key in her hand. – “Wait for me inside, I'll be right with you” – she smiled weakly at him and went in the direction of the building. From afar, she heard Peter saying:_  
_“Well, Fox. Of all the men and women I know you slept with, she is the crown jewel.”_  
_But Iorveth did not reply._

 

It was his voice, that woke her up from her thoughts:  
“Va'esse deireádh aep eigean, va'esse eigh faidh'ar.”

_Something ends, something begins..._

She did reply, to the wall, not turning around:  
“And I was so stupid! I restrained myself, I stopped myself so many times. So careful not to... Even when it would be much easier. Even if killing Lacrosse would be so much easier with a pillow, just after the sex of his life! No, I needed to poison him and every poison is traceable... I could have been with any number of men, instead of fucking half-celibacy for almost two years! Son of a bitch...” – at the end she was shaking with anger.  
“What can I do, Fen? I would do anything” – he continued in a concerned voice.  
“Fuck me, Iorveth. Fuck me hard” – she said, within a minute taking off her jacket and undoing her trousers, while moving slowly to the wall and looking for anything to stand on, in order to be higher, closer to the level of his groin. She found, what she was looking for, on the floor next to the wall – a few lying books.

_Perfect._

She didn't need to say it twice. His hands were on her in an instant - eager and demanding. He pulled down her trousers and her pants, reaching her sensitive spot with his fingers, but she wanted none of it. She panted in harsh, ordering voice:  
“Fuck me, now” – and she heard him breathing heavily. He froze for a moment - knowing as well as she did, that as dry as she was, it would be painful for them both, if he tried to enter her like that. But he promised and she knew, that he would deliver, not without satisfying one of his dark and deep desires.

_I told you the day I've met you: I know you. And the thin line between pleasure and pain is a place you like, too. But it's crossing it, what truly makes you high, isn't it?_

With her final thought she spread her legs. Her arms and forehead were resting on the wall and she pushed her bottom to him,bending the lower back a little bit and tilting her hips, changing the angle in which her entrance was positioned. He hesitated but just for a moment. He took his fingers from her clitoris, only to bring them to his mouth. Wetted with his saliva, he pushed two of them inside her. She groaned. He made a circular movement with them and spread what little moisture she already had around her entrance. After that, he grabbed her and pushed - roughly and swiftly - inside her. She half-moaned half-groaned in a husky voice. He made a similar, deeper sound and waited inside her for her to adjust to him.  
She was squeezing her inner muscles around him to accelerate the process. When she could tighten and loosen her muscle easily, she started to move forth and backwards. The sensation was already pleasant, her inner walls were only a little bit sore. He answered with his own movement from behind her. In the beginning, as if scared of what he had done, he was gentle and slow. He was touching her back, leaned to kiss her spine, but she protested again:  
“Faster and harder. Make me pant and grab me by the hips for fuck's sake!” – she ordered angrily.  
He hesitated.

_No... Not again..._

But he did, what she asked for and quickly lost control: plundering her deep, rough and fast, keeping her hips in the position with his hands, digging his fingers deep into her pelvis. This was when she hissed and moaned loudly as her walls were tightening around him slowly. She felt her whole upper body moving forward and backward with his movements. And she loved it. Quickly, she used her own fingers on her clitoris to pleasure herself. She came violently, loudly and trembling. Soon after, when she was still dazed, he removed his hands from her hips and took a step forward, pushing her flat on the wall with force, which squeezed her breasts painfully. She was barely standing in this position, but managed to keep her balance. His hands went to the wall, lower than hers. He wasn't touching her with anything but his length inside her and his groin on her buttocks. And like that, he cum inside her with the last, strong thrust, which she felt almost impossibly deep inside her. Then, she smiled and started to breathe normally.

_I knew you can do it like that._

They were both panting, spent and shaking. Before he was back from his climax, she slid him out of her and encircled him, bending under his hand. When she was next to him, she said:  
“I'll make a bath” – and went to dress up.

_Just don't touch me afterwards..._

They prepared the bath together in total silence. When it was ready, they got in and sat facing each other. It was a truly big bath tube. They didn't talk for a long time, relaxing. But after a while, she heard him speaking:  
“Fen...” – obviously, she decided to evade the question.  
As was her way and custom, she didn't let him finish, kneeling in front of him and kissing him for the first time. Violently, but with a fiery passion, that he reciprocated at once. He held her head and tilted her body, so her head was lower and he could lean down to the kiss. After a few long moments she knew, that this time she is more than ready for him, so she moved slowly to position herself in his lap, but he pushed her gently away. Then, he looked her deep in the eyes. His impossibly green left eye was scrutinizing her, challenging her to speak. When she didn't, he started:  
“Talk to me...”  
“About what?” – she asked in defiance.  
“Isengrim, what we've heard from Peter, the wall, you asking me to rape you - take your pick.”  
“It's not a rape, if I asked you to do it” – she stated coldly.  
“You know what I mean.”  
“I felt like being fucked by you and I encouraged...” – he interrupted then:  
“Made...”  
“Did I push your penis into my vagina, Iorveth? You are angry, because you liked it more than you believe, that you should.”

The silence fell between them. She was observing him all the time and his expression was changing.  
“Why did you do it, Fen?” – he asked calmly.  
“Didn't you want me?”  
“Not like that.”  
“So why did you do it like that, then?” – he didn't answer looking at her with... Shame? Anger? Fascination? All of these emotions? – “You have some dark and deep desires of your own, Iorveth” – she stated – “but I, at least, know mine and recognise them. So the answer is plain and simple: I wanted you and I wanted it rough.”  
The silence fell, again. He was barely breathing. As he spoke his expression was cold and focused:  
“Did you do this to him, too? Did you push him so far beyond his limits, that he almost regretted having you at all? Or did you punish me for wanting you as you wanted me even before we both have learned what we learned today?”

_How dare you?_

Her hand moved on its own accord. He expected to be smacked and dodged, but she was after something else. His bandanna was removed with quick movement and tossed to the ground.

_Now we are both exposed._

His expression was one of horror, pain and rage. He leaned to her and caught her throat, pushing her back and strangling her. She choked, but her expression was more of anger than of fear. She moved her hand - not to his wrist to stop him - but to the back of his head. She pulled him towards her, feeling his hand loosening and moved up to meet him halfway in another kiss.  
But this one was different. It was slow and intimate, he was devouring her and covering her completely with his body.

_Now, that we know the worst about us, the worst, that we can do to each other and the worst that can happen... Here we are - the worst versions of ourselves. Doing wrong, painful, shameful things to ourselves and to each other. Two extremely dangerous people: not because we could kill each other at any moment... No... But, because no one could make a person bleed with such expertise as we can. When the darkness fall and the cold night comes, we change into blood-sucking monsters, who chase after pain and pleasure just the same. We are those things, Iorveth... You know it as well as I do._  
_But just before the sleep, which will bring the faces of dead men to our dreams again. And just before the dawn, which will make us both regret it all. And before tomorrow, which will come bearing no hope, no dreams and no goals any more. Just now, can we make love again?_

The bath was next to the wall so she decided to sit on its edge facing him and with her back at the wall. The position was comfortable enough. He knelt in front of her, observing.  
“Come to me, I'll be a good girl, I promise” – she said teasing and mocking him. He looked at her in disbelieve. His face was as torn as his heart. She knew it well.

_Just a few years ago, you called me – sor'ca and I called you – fraere. A few years ago, we knew the boundaries, the limits – we set them ourselves, willingly. Then, when I was with him and you were free, despite the war and loss, things were simple. We didn't even want anything else. We didn't see each other, the world and our place in it any other way._  
_But now... Did we achieve it all? Or did we lose? Can we function like that? Without him - the most important person in our lives for such a long time..._

Just then, her feet moved and she slid a little bit from the bath's edge. The movement caused the handle, which was under her, to cut her skin at her tight. The cut wasn't deep, but few drops of crimson blood fell to the water leaving trial on her alabaster skin. They both gasped loudly.

_Why, oh why, we both got turn on by the blood? We are losing our minds, but let's sink in it for just a little bit longer._

As promised, she made no movement. Waiting. He observed: the blood, her body, her face. Then, he neared to her, moving his body up. He lifted her legs to rest on his arms, with which he was holding her waist. One of his hands went to her wet entrance. After that, he got even closer to her, biting gently on her shoulder and neck. She moved to his groin and he entered her - this time looking her in the eyes. She was observing the trail her blood left on his arm, but quickly pulled him closer to her, causing his body to spread her legs painfully. She didn't hiss, but let her head fell at the sensation. As if reading her mind, he smirked and removed his hands to put them on her legs, instead. One of the hands went quickly back to her most sensitive spot and they came almost together - a while later.  
But she had no idea, what made to her rest her cheek afterwards on his scarred one. Her gesture was warm, caring, filled with devotion. She shocked them both with it and he froze, but didn't run away from her touch.  
On the way to the bed, she saw their weapons: her double swords and a bow and his longsword and a bow. Some of them were still bent on the chair, but others fell in a mess. They would never leave their weapons like that on purpose. They fell scattered on their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skylar Grey „Dance Without You”


	49. Iorveth Lammas 1271

IORVETH

 

Lammas 1271  
the next day  
the cottage outside Vengerberg  
Aedrin

He woke up in the morning feeling a petite body nestled next to his.

_Fen... Gynvael... I was right, but you were right, too. Nothing in my entire life felt so wrong and so right like the last night._

He remembered the conversation in the bath-tube. Argument? Hard to say.

_How far, still, can we push each other? Or maybe we needed to see where the boundaries are and make a step further, but just a step. Like when you rested your cheek on mine. For the first time in three years someone else's touch didn't hurt me: was nor unpleasant neither terrifying... For the first time, it was the most natural thing in the world._  
_Are we too far gone, already? Or not enough, yet?_

They were making love almost without a break last night. He lost count how many times but he was still sore, spent and tired. And that was saying a lot. They drunk too much, as well. He didn't even want to imagine how she would feel after...

_She wanted it and was very explicit about it. She wanted it and I wanted it, too. To have her like that – in pain and pleasure. But there is still something, that I want to do. And she will refuse, what then? I tried so hard to be the sane one. Who would catch us if we fall? He is far away... and I'm fucking his woman - the only one he claimed and stayed true to... mostly, but she accepted it: en'ca minne is just sex, nothing more. Just as he accepted her female partners. It was a relationship with someone else, what would destroy them and he had never even considered it. For a time... but now he's not here. We are alone, desperate, broken-hearted and sick with a long-concealed desire. How did it happen? No... more importantly: why? Why, oh, why do I desire so much to hear you scream?_

With that last thought, he got up and went out of the cottage. He was gone for a long time and when he came back, she was reading, evidence of her lunch were on the table. They didn't speak much while he prepared a meal for two and they ate. The afternoon went on normally. They drunk a little, but much less than the last night. Just after dusk, it was him who suggested:  
“Bed?”

_Refuse... Be the one, cause I'm not thinking straight. I can see clear no more, I know it. But you wouldn't, would you?_

She answered with a smirk and walked to the bed, undressing on her way. He followed. When they both got there they were naked, but for his bandanna and her necklace, which were to stay intact ever since.

_So much for a foreplay._

But he was wrong. They were teasing each other for an hour, maybe even more, with every inch of their bodies, with moans and whispers. When one of them was close to the edge, the roles changed immediately. After this teasing torture, he was close to exploding any second, but controlling himself perfectly and she was so high already, that the climax, which was to come in the right time, would be unimaginable. During all that game he was teasing her other hole as well, making her gasp in surprise, but not without half-curious and half-lustful look in her eyes.

_So you have never done it before... Maybe now?_

Still in their play, he rolled her gently, making her lay flat on her belly. He knelt on both sides of her tights, admiring the incredibly gorgeous view in front of him: her lower back, buttocks and tights tilted up – in a perfect, alluring position. The mere view made him almost tremble with desire. He leaned in, touching her and kissing the back of her neck. His fingers from the right hand moved down the spine, between her buttocks and further down to push two fingers to the hole more to the front, for some lubrication. And then, he moved back up to the small hole hidden there and his left hand moved to her clitoris. She arched slightly to him. With this reaction a single finger of his right hand pushed down into her anus, at that, she gasped – pain and pleasure present in her voice as she spoke in a seductive voice:  
“I know what you're after you wicked, dirty, ravishing Seidhe. But you are not going to get it” – her last sentence was spoken in a stronger voice.  
Upon hearing that, he did exactly the opposite, obviously. He pushed three fingers of his left hand into her front hole and his thumb started to rub the clitoris. The index finger of his right hand, already in her behind, went even further down. The sensation was too much for her, she made a sound close to a moan and a chuckle, arched to him and he felt all of her muscles clenching violently. Gasping, she came hard - her first climax was followed by few more, not as strong, but still. Even he was in shock after this reaction. He knew some women, who could be brought to multiple orgasms, but it was a rare show and he enjoyed feeling it on his fingers and watching her. When she was spent and loosening again, he removed his fingers and positioned himself. He wondered just for a moment before lifting her bottom a little bit more and entering. She didn't say a word, nor did she move to position herself.

_She trusts me, despite everything... Ah... because she trusts herself, too..._

He slid in the only hole she would allow him to enter.

_For now... I can make anyone change his or her mind about that. Even a dh'oine... OK, almost anyone._

Her movements were limited, but she moved to him a little bit, meeting his thrusts. He came after a few movements and lingered in her for a while. She motioned him to slid out of her and so he did. Then, as they were lying facing each other, she started with a curiousity in her voice:  
“How does it feel like?”  
“Different, I guess. Different than any other.”  
“Hmm...”  
“I just gave you a taste” – he said with a cocky smile – “now you know what you refuse.”  
“And how do you now that I didn't...?” – she was answered by his raised eyebrows. – “OK. I didn't, not even as we did a moment ago” – she continued. – “And taking into consideration how many Seidhe I was with - I start to wonder how did it happen?” – she laughed at that lightly.  
“Well. Every female Seidhe I know is bisexual, as you yourself. Even if you are not a Seidhe. As for male, I know only a few truly bisexual ones. For the rest: love is love and we get bored quickly. But to answer your question: most of rather heterosexual Seidhe is much more interested in your vagina. For various reasons...” – he trailed off.  
“There is a dh'oine saying: that everything is about sex, but sex. Now you proved it right” – they both chuckled – “you were talking about my fertility, weren't you?”  
“Yes” – he replied in a distant voice.  
“Don't worry. I'm infertile” – was her light answer.  
“What...?” – he asked, shocked.  
“Not permanently, just under a very powerful spell cast long ago. But... let's change the subject...”  
He was looking at her for a while in silence.

_Did he know? Why do I think about...? Never mind._

Changing the subject, he asked playfully:  
“Multiple orgasms? Seriously?”  
“Usually...” – she answered smiling. – “But only on few occasions with as many strong climaxes after the initial one” – she added smirking at him. – “And I don't even know what it depends on...”  
“Well, if I was to suggest something...” – he started, chuckling.  
“Not only that, Iorveth. The strongest before was a very long time ago...” – she trailed off.  
Iorveth observed her as she looked at the ceiling.

_So it was not with... It's getting interesting._

“So it wasn't with him. Whom then?”  
“Well... Coinneach.”  
“What?” – Iorveth asked almost choking with surprise. – “You were having sex with Coinneach Da Réo? Before or at the same time? Or together? This is really, really good, Fen! I'm impressed!” – he said laughing.  
“Stop that. Before... almost ten years ago. And you knew that, already. Don't play with me...”  
“Well... I still must admit, that you have two on your list, which I never managed to have, not because of the lack of trying. Too heterosexual... Although, it makes sense...” – they both laughed out loud for a long time.

They were both used to getting what they wanted. And while spending a few more days in the cottage - they got used to it. They never had an argument again. Instead, they fell into a strange, and probably beyond understanding for anyone but them, routine.

_I am giving you too much, taking too much from you, simultaneously. And you do exactly the same. We reached the balance, but still, this is an intense experience. Living with you is like running from a battlefield, hoping to save as much as you can, even if you know, that you lost. Brenna..._

Still, they stayed together. On the fifth day, he gathered his courage to say:  
“I meant what I said in Loc Muinne, Fen. You are always welcome and our home is your home...” – he started.  
“You truly want to go back, don't you?”  
“Yes. To rest and to let others decide for me about everything, for a change. To stop hiding and running away, at least for a while” – she wasn't looking at him as he said it, but through the window at the line of the forest.  
“And did you think...” – she started, but didn't finish.  
“No, let's leave thinking about that for later” – he answered.

_Even now his ghost is here. We are such fools. There is no way back and no way forward._

“It's at least two months on the road, either way. We have time to decide what we want to do. OK. Let's go the day after tomorrow.”  
After that conversation, they started to plan the journey.


	50. Fen Yule 1272

FEN

 

Yule 1272  
Fundi-i-Stuhire (Deireadh Stoirme)  
Hapësirë-Boshe (Tir Diffaith)

She was looking up at the open sky of the Wastelands. The sun was setting in a dark crimson colour. Around them only small, dry and thick bushes of maquis could be found: oleander, laurel, juniper and more bushes, most of them with long and hard thorns. They still had some miles to walk, but the oasis was on the horizon – Deireadh Stoirme, Storm's End.

_How suitable... You and I: a lightning and a thunder. Pouring rain, dark sky and pitch-black clouds, which follow us everywhere we go. No hiding from that._

When they got there, both she and Iorveth were working in silence, as they were preparing the camp. The evening was cold, but they didn't care, sleeping together they kept each other warm enough. They ate, undressed and laid on the blankets. By then, it was already completely dark and hundreds of stars were shining above their heads.  
This night was meant to be different and they both knew it without even discussing it. Something in his voice, something in her touch were saying, that they made up their minds.

_But tonight... tonight is not tomorrow yet. It pains me, this feeling. But... it's what we like, isn't it?_

They stared at each other for a while. She put her hands on his chest and back, digging her fingernails deep into his skin. He grabbed her too roughly in return and pulled her closer. They mouths crushed, biting and kissing until they tasted blood. He moved to bite and suck on her neck, breasts and stomach. Then he stopped for a while at her cleavage and whispered in a sad voice:  
“Your skin is truly perfect.”

_Perfect lie. Mine and yours. You know, that it's an illusion. I know, that you know. But we decided to hide from each other behind these lies and half-truths. When you are my friend I tell you the truth, but not everything. When you are my lover – I lie and as do you. What a maze we've created? Does it matter any more?_

They were still lying on their sides, when he lifted his body just a little bit, while she read his mind and slid her bent leg under his waist. Her other leg encircled his other hip and her feet met on his back. They were never so incredibly close before, despite the fact, that they spent together these last three months, having sex almost every day, usually multiple times. Her hands were on his back, fingertips dug deep into his skin, leaving a trail, while he was grabbing her buttocks painfully hard. They were moving like that for a while, teasing, and then he entered her easily. They waited, biting each other on shoulders, necks, but after a while, she pushed lightly his bottom with her heels and they resumed the slow rhythm of their movements. This time they relished it, but still, their rhythm was accelerating quickly. They were chasing their pleasure, as always. Not inconsiderate, but healthy egoistic for sure.

_Chasing... always chasing something... all our lives... Always hungry for more. Always wanting it now. And always feeling the hole after it is gone, after it passes._

He came first, looking her in the eyes as she smiled teasingly. It took her a while longer, but she was at her peak too and her head fall back slightly. They laid like that for a long time, just looking at each other in silence. When they separated, both looked up in the sky. After he rested, he turned to her in a half-lying position, leaning on a bent arm. The wide, playful smirk crept on his face.  
“You have a very naughty plan, don't you?” – she teased.  
“I do” – he said, proudly.  
“So what are you waiting for? Invitation?” – she mocked him.  
In a swift movement he knelt in front of her and grabbed her by the hips. Then, he pulled her to his groin, her buttocks and lower part of her back were lying on his bent legs. She knew already what the plan was. He started with his fingers, but seeing her spread on him like that, he was not inclined to wait for long. And she decided to get ahead of him. Just when she was ready, she lifted herself a little bit to give them a better angle, grabbed his length herself and moved towards his body. Her rapid action caused him to groan, but his hands were back on her hips, soon and they were moving together. With a predatory smile, he was accelerating, mostly by moving her body and just when she narrowed her eyes in a playful anger, his hand went further down to her arse and slid gently in her other hole. Then, she was surprised and she moaned, while her body arched to him at the sensation.

_Again... this is your fetish, isn't it?_

But soon, her thoughts became blurred and incoherent, as the climax was building inside of her and when he just touched her clitoris - she was high, again. Her body was twitching slightly on his legs and she didn't even notice when he came. He was panting and stopped moving, but her orgasm was so overwhelming, that she truly didn't know when it happened. After just a few seconds, he resumed movements, this time nicely and slowly, what brought her to the second peak. He spoke just when she felt another orgasm building up:  
“I believe, that I just proved my theory...”  
“Shut up” – was all she could say and she came. He chuckled.  
“If you are nicer, we may see more” – he mocked her.  
“Shut the fuck up, please” – she grunted. At this, he laughed out loud. And, obviously, she came again, feeling she was tightening one more time.

_How many more? Come on... I can't..._

Then, he stopped moving altogether. She looked at him angrily from under half-lowered eye-lids. But he just tilted his head with a cocky smile.  
“Say something nice... and maybe you will cum on me again” – he said in such a mocking voice, that she started to half-laugh half-cry herself.  
“I would say, that I will fuck your arse for this, but you would like it!” – they were both laughing hard at that. – “OK. I like your bandanna” – he was shocked at first, but then said laughing even harder:  
“You are wicked” – and he brought her to yet another scream of pleasure.

Once they disentangled, they were still laughing, as they laid down comfortably on the blanket and were looking at the stars once more. They were like that for a while. To her utter horror - out of no where - he spoke in a voice so sorrowful, so depressed, that she stopped breathing:  
“I remember a night like that. From a long, long time ago. It feels like it was another lifetime.”  
She was afraid to look at him, but she did and saw her worst fear coming true: a single tear-drop was falling down from his eye. Most women, most people, would say something then. Would try to comfort him. But she didn't. Instead, she moved swiftly to straddle him facing his feet and took him into her mouth until he was hard again. Later, she lowered herself and rode him in this position. Fast and hard, sinking deep down and moving high up. In between the movements, she pulled up his right tight to stimulate her clitoris. She came first, but didn't stop or slow down, until she felt him cum inside her.  
When she moved up and turned around, he was calm again. Even a half chuckle escaped his mouth and he spoke:  
“You can't fuck everything off.”  
“I know. But I'm doing my best. You can talk to me tomorrow, if you please.”  
“I think so, after all, I was an unwilling witness to most of your crushing moments lately, sor'ca.”  
“So true, fraere.”

_When did it happen? How did we go back so naturally to this?_

They looked at each other in confusion, but said nothing. Afterwards, they went to sleep. He huged her, spooning her gently, in no way possessively.

_I was never his to keep in the first place. And soon... well... Nothing will matter anymore, soon... But I'll face it: head first._

She woke up alone. The first rays of the morning sun were shining directly in her eyes and she swore:  
“Fuck.”  
“Sweet in the morning, as always. Living with you for the last three months I realised, that I actually prefer lonely mornings” – was Iorveth's reply.  
“Good for you” – she was still in a terrible mood.  
When she got to him, there was already a fire and breakfast. They ate in silence. He breathed heavily and asked:  
“Do you plan to tell him about... us?”  
“Yes. If my plan to go back is to make sense, I'm not lying any longer” – she replied in a strong voice.

_I'll die in the process, bleeding. I already hate it to no limits. But I will... I don't even remember how being completely honest feels like... For the last thirteen years I was changing identity like gloves... Wait! I have only one pair of those. So like socks?_

“I hate it” – was his reply. – “He will kill us both.”  
“No, he won't. He is not doing it any more” – she said in a strange voice.

_He left this life behind. And this time maybe we did, too?_

“Do you realise, that we spent quite a time living together... much more than I spent with her and almost as much as you spent with him?” – this time his voice was strange.  
“Yes. But, is this” – she motioned herself and him – “what you truly want, Iorveth?” – she asked matter-of-factly. He was thinking long before answering:  
“No. I know you by heart. I want something new, surprising, fresh. Not so depressingly alike me.”  
“So we need to try. And don't worry” – she said with a wide smile – “Coinneach won't allow him to throw us away, either. He likes both of us too much.”

At that, they started to laugh so hard, that they almost rolled on the ground. Then, they cried in silence, not looking at each other.

Hot tears were running down their faces, unstoppable and inevitable. Their emotions were whirling around like they didn't for a long time, never really. And then - they understood. They both never had a youth, past their childhoods. They took on themselves duties, responsibilities... so early in their lives. They knew, that men would die on their order and that mistake would cost much more, than just their lives. They learned to lie about everything. They learned to be shallow and empty, to live and be ready to die for a cause. They put a mask on and accepted life of homeless.  
Now, just the two of them, they were crying for their lost innocence. They cried for the mistakes, which they could not afford to make and chances, which they must have missed. They cried for the past, that was lost, but they still yearned for it so strongly. They mourned the times, which could have been, but never were. They mourned the moments, they chased so hard, that they barely realised they've already happened. And at the end, they regretted, that they both knew all of these things and each other, but couldn't resurface from those deep waters together. Cause together they were swimming steadily, but under the water.

_Did we risk it all and came this far to fall? Are we foolish to go into the biggest disappointment of our lives? To go to a place we call home, but we've spent there a few months two years ago... We are on our knees, with only memories, that we hold on to. Memories or illusions by now? We've learned nothing. I've learned nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keira Knightley „Lost Stars”


	51. Saskia Yule 1272

SASKIA

 

Yule 1272  
Deti-i-Barit (Muir Glaswellt)

She crossed the first great river – the Shiny River. At last, she left the Wastelands... Here, grass was covering everything, reaching as far as the horizon. But from afar, she saw fields - barren now, but surely blooming in the spring and in the summer.

_So there are some inhabitants, I'm not wandering through the wilderness with just hope anymore. They are here. But farming? It's strange..._

From the distance, she saw a small tent in the middle of this Sea of Grass and she decided to get there. When she spread the material, she saw them: Fen and Iorveth. They were sleeping in two blankets, but close to each other.

_They are friends, right?_

It was Fen, who woke up and the dagger was soon in her hand. But when she recognised Saskia, she put a finger to her mouth, motioned to Iorveth and started to get up gently, trying not to wake him up. Once outside the tent, she hugged her closely:  
“Saskia! You made it. I'm so glad!” – Fen exclaimed enthusiastically.  
“Me too. I thought that maybe...” - Saskia trailed off.  
“He was thinking a lot about you lately. But the two of you - you must speak first” – Fen said pondering. – “Don't allow him to hide anything. If you are to have a chance - you must know and you must forgive...” – she continued.  
“What?” – Saskia asked not really sure if she liked the sound of it.  
“It's not my place. Come, talk to me about Vergen. Why did you leave? How was your journey?”  
So Saskia did, at length. After a long time, Iorveth emerged from the tent. His expression was unsure, as Fen said:  
“We will talk later” – she looked pointedly at Iorveth and left. Saskia neared to him, but he backed away, saying:  
“I slept with Fen.”  
“Wha...?”  
“You left me in Loc Muinne. I... I just... I needed it. I needed her.”  
“Why, Iorveth?”  
“To forget about everything for a while. Not to care. To just have sex, leaving everything behind. But most importantly... not to be alone.”  
No one spoke again for a long time. They were just looking at each other. In the end, Saskia broke the silence:  
“I left you. That is true. And I understand. But... no more, Iorveth! If you want me to go there with you: no more, women or men. It's still cheating and I won't tolerate this. I want to be with you, I want to have a home, a family with you. Here, I said it...” – she stopped, looking at his surprised face.  
“I want it, too” – he replied slowly.  
“What? I...” – and then he kissed her, passionately. He hugged her so close, as if he wished, that they can melt in one. This time, it was her, who separated from him and said:  
“But nothing more will happen before we speak some more and before... well... Fen won't be here, waiting patiently and respectfully as she is now, walking far away in the grass... It still feels as if she was here. As if you would compare...”  
“I would never.”  
“Why?”  
“She is... there is not much you two have in common, Saskia. Maybe determination and fierce passion, but... Me and her, we... I'm not a good person, Saskia. I... did things I shouldn't have done. I told you long ago: I'm a rough man and impulsive one. And... she is cruel and dangerous person, too, ma mienne.”  
“I am a dragon, remember?”  
“Not like that, being with her is like... falling into a deep well” – he said slowly. – “Still, in that sense, too. It was more than one time I realised, that she was thinking about killing me.”  
“What?” – Saskia was shocked. – “When?”  
“In the mornings...”  
“I like mornings” – Saskia said quietly.  
“I know, as I said... there is not much you two have in common” – Iorveth looked at her warmly.  
“I want to speak to her” – Saskia stated and left to find Fen.

The other woman saw her and headed in her direction. They met halfway, in the middle of the seemingly endless grass. It was Fen, who started:  
“Squaess'me...” – her voice was but a whisper.  
“There is nothing to forgive. It was his choice, too.”  
“Yes, it was. But he... he is much better with you, Saskia. I knew it then and I still did it.”  
“So why?”  
“I needed to lose myself. To let it go and... I knew, that I can do it with him. I just didn't realise, that I would hurt him in the process.”  
“How?”  
“I pushed him too far. More than once...” – Fen's voice was full of regret.  
“Impossible. It's Iorveth” – Saskia replied.  
“He has deep wounds of his own, Saskia. He can be cruel but he doesn't want to. Sometimes, we were the worst versions of ourselves... We crossed lines: one after another... And you, with your innocence and goodness, you cannot even imagine what it means. And neither of us will tell you.”  
“Did he” – Saskia stopped terrified, but finished – “hurt you?”  
“No, no more than I hurt him.”

The two women fell silent. When they headed back to the tent, Fen said in a small voice:  
“I know, that I have no right to ask you for that, but... Soon... Just... take care of him. Of them, please. They will need you.”  
“What do you mean?” – Saskia asked terrified, again.  
“Nothing, my dear friend, nothing.”

Saskia didn't push her, but... she should have had...


	52. Neilina Yule 1272

NEILINA

 

Yule 1272  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

The pleasant routine of living in Gwyncuan was still enchanting her. They were spending their days on trifle things: some work and a lot of playing with the child. Caelebran was growing happily and healthy, and that was the single most important thing in the world.  
She was just cleaning after lunch, next to her was her boy - with big brown eyes and dark brown hair - sleeping in his cradle. It was an exceptionally ornamented in a vegetal pattern cradle, which was made for him by Isengrim, just before he was born. She smiled fondly at the memory as she saw it for the first time. She always knew, that Is would be a great father and he proved her to be right countless times.  
Suddenly, she heard a knock on the deep-blue door and at that sound – Caelebran woke up and started to cry. She lifted him up and with him in her arms, she opened the door. A woman was standing there. She looked like a dh'oine. She had medium-cut auburn hair and ice-cold blue-grey eyes. The eyes, which were now moving quickly from her to her son, narrowing dangerously. Then, she remembered Coinneach's story he had told her just three months ago and a truly fitting description.  
“You must be Fen” – she stated more than asked.  
The terrible silence fell. The woman's face turned into true alabaster with no expression whatsoever.  
“Do you want me to bring new cloth for the little crevan?” – Isengrim's voice came from the other room of the house.  
She didn't answer. No one spoke or moved. The air was so tense, that you could cut it with a knife.

_A knife? She is carrying two swords and a bow, in addition a few knives. She could cut whatever she wanted to a hundred pieces in a hundred different ways. I heard the stories... And right now, she has murder and sorrow in her eyes._

The other woman was frozen at her spot for a while. Then, she turned around and walked away in a fast pace not sparing her another glance.

_Where are you going? Ah... Ah!_

After that realisation, she ran with her child in her arms... after the dh'oine.

 _An ordinary dh'oine... Not even pretty, nothing in comparison to... And I chase her like a fool._  
_No. The woman... The one. With a temper, too. But one of them: a Scoia'tael. A hero. A miracle-maker. The one, who lighted the way for them all, who saved them all. The one, who was personalisation of hope. I must stop her._

When she got closer, she called after Fen:  
“My son is not his. Isengrim is not Caelebran's father.”

Fen stopped in her tracks, turned around slowly and said:  
“It doesn't really matter, does it? You live with him.”  
“I... yes and no.”  
Fen raised her eyebrows and clenched her jaw. She started to turn around and walk again, but Neilina said just in time:  
“We are not together. He... He grew close to Caelebran and we are close friends. But we are no longer together.”  
“So nice of both of you...” – Fen replied in a blank voice.

_It came out wrong... So wrong... But it was too late._

Then, she heard male footsteps and felt Isengrim's calming hand on her shoulder. He said quietly:  
“Go home. You and him... You don't want to hear this.”  
She retreated to her own house, the beige one – next to Isengrim's, but left the door open. Just in case... Then, she looked through the window.  
“Ceád'mil” – Isengrim started.  
“Wha...!?” – Fen huffed with irritation.  
“Is a simple greeting too much for you, as well?”

_Do not mock her now..._

“Fuck off...”

_Told you..._

A long silence followed. Isengrim and Fen stood facing each other, both had no expression on their faces. Both were terribly still like hunters waiting patiently to attack their prey...  
“I came back with Iorveth” – she started.  
“And where is he?”  
“They are on their way... Saskia found us two days ago.”  
“I heard about her, Virgin of Aedrin. We were all cheering for her.”  
“Not so much of a virgin... but I heard, that you know Iorveth even better than I do... You can foresee what he will do, even before he knows it. Is it true? Do you have the same power in my case?”

_No... no. Do not say it... not yet... Maybe never..._

“Did he...? Did you...? Did you sleep with him, Eryr?”  
“Yes. We were fucking each other for the last three months.”

Silence. Long silence followed once again. No one was moving and they seemed perfectly calm. Then, she heard footsteps.

 _Oh no.._.

Another male voice started:  
“Fraere... Long time!” – with genuine happiness in his voice.  
Then she saw a raven-hair Seidhe with a bandanna, approaching with a blond woman. Isengrim stared at him for a while, but soon he charged in the man's direction. Then, he punched him hard in the face. The other fell to the ground, but did nothing, just stood up again.

_He believes, that he deserved that one._

When another blow came, the younger Seidhe answered in kind and they started to fight. Fen was standing almost bored on her spot at first, but when she looked at the blond woman, who was observing the scene with horror, she gave an order in commanding, deep and calm voice:  
“Stop!”

_A true commander. Her voice wouldn't bear any disobedience. Impressive._

And they did stop just for a second. Both male Seidhe were caught off guard, what gave Fen time to grab Isengrim and force him to look her in the eyes. Then, she spoke calmly in a voice cold as ice and terrible like thunder:  
“I am not a piece of meat to be taken or fought for by mad wolf and fox.”  
When both male Seidhe, bleeding from their faces, stood up, she continued:  
“I had not cheated on you with Lacrosse or any other men... until we've met Peter in Vengerberg in Lammas last year. I started this” – she motioned to her and Iorveth – “a whole year after you started that” – she motioned Isengrim and Neilina's house.

_Oh... This is all so wrong. You were wrong. How stupid... What sick and twisted fate made you both do it?_

“I came here only to find her in the house, which you were supposedly building for us. With a child, which looked as if it was yours. And unlike you” – she paused – “I didn't attack her.”

Another tense silence fell. It seemed like the time stopped around them.  
“How could you...?” – it was Isengrim's question. His voice was almost choking with betrayal and he looked at Iorveth.  
“We needed...” – the man called Iorveth started, but Fen interrupted:  
“There was a war to fight in! We were still fighting and you left us! You followed me at first, but then... you left without even asking what had happened in that cursed castle, but Iorveth stayed. You just assumed, that I'm doing what? What exactly did you assume that night, Isengrim?”  
“That you decided, that home was too suffocating for you and you were looking for a new adventure - a way out. What should have I assumed?” – Isengrim shouted, losing control again. – “That I'm demanding too much from you and you are not finished with this... Wars, killing, fucking whomever you wanted, all I left behind those bloody Mountains” – more shouting came from him. – “Why did you leave me if not because of that?”

_Judging by her face, Is... This was the wrong question... Her jaw is clenched and her facial expression is one of terrible pain._

For a long time, there was no answer. Fen looked as if she was thinking hard on what to say. But when she decided, she was calm and cold. Then, she spoke again:  
“I was an assassin and a spy, Isengrim. This is true and I'm not planning to hide from it any longer. I needed to pay a debt to king Foltest of Temeria. Firstly, before Brenna... a five-years - which turned into eight-years, because I didn't want to leave you on your own – pledge for giving me a chance for a life of my own. For giving me resources and trust to be more than just a king's mistress or... “ – she trailed and didn't finish the sentence. – “And what happened in the last two years of paying that debt proved, that I was right. Because then, I needed to incur a new debt - to have a chance to save you. After you decided to make the biggest and stupidest mistake of your lives, which was trusting emperor Emhyr var Emreis" – she paused looking him straight in the eyes. – "It was in return for sparing your lives and freedom and saving your men - the Scoia'tael who remained in the Realms - from Radovid's bloodlust. I was given by Foltest the list of 35 names of the people, that I was ordered to eliminate, acting as a ghost,which were listed next to names of officers of the Vrihedd Brigade. A life for a life. Name by name. And yours, colonel Faoiltiarna, was the last - accompanied by that of Radovid V the Stern. I needed to commit regicide and it was not a piece of lembas, I can assure you. But only after that, I could hope, that no one will follow us here to make me pay for not finishing the task I swore to do. But, I wouldn't be almost sure, that we are all safe, if not for the victory at Vergen, which allowed us to forge a strong, personal bond with the new Queen of Redania and Temeria – Adda the White.”

She paused, took a deep breath and added:  
“So the reason I left is exactly the same, as why I was not a free person for the last thirteen years.”

All but Iorveth, who probably already knew the story, gaped. Isengrim wasn't even breathing...

_What is he thinking now?_

No one spoke another world. Isengrim approached Fen slowly: unsure, but determined. Then he did, what he has always done. He put his hands on her waist, then moved them to her behind, lifting her up. When she crossed her feet at his back and her hands on his neck, he didn't look at anyone else and carried her home.

Some hours later, she heard the knock on her door. It was Fen and the moment Neilina opened the door - the other woman said:  
“Squaess'me...”  
“Come in” – she motioned inside – “and there is nothing to forgive.”  
“I was angry, I shouldn't have...”  
“You had every reason to be angry.”  
“He truly looks like Isengrim...”  
When Fen spoke the last sentence, Caelebran woke up, but he didn't cry. He was just lying there and looking at the new person. Then, Neilina saw it: Fen's predatory features changed, she smiled warmly and gently at the little boy. Fen took one more step and stood next to the cradle.  
“You can hold him, if you want” – the Seidhe offered.  
“Me? No. Thank you, I have no experience with... and I still smell like death...” – her voice was sad, filled with regret.  
“As you wish” – Neilina answered with a reassuring smile.  
“It is extraordinary. To see a life and a light impersonated in such a small thing...” – Fen trailed off. – “Thank you for being there for Is.”  
“We are friends. Just friends.”  
“I know and I also know, that sometimes it's much better option. You are a very important person for him and I'm glad, that you are here.”

Both women became silent. After a while, Fen started again:  
“For the first time in all these years, I wish I didn't know how the story ends. And watching Caelebran... there are so many things I wish for...”  
“What...?” – Neilina tried to ask.  
“I see you in the evening.”  
After saying that the other woman smiled, bowed slightly her head and left. But Neilina saw it: a single tear-drop falling from her eye.

In the evening on the same day, there was a gathering of all inhabitants of Gwyncuan. No one but few knew the reason behind the gathering. Fen and Coinneach came from the harbour, but she didn't go to the middle of the circle, waiting respectfully to be invited. His face was happy and concerned at the same time as he spoke:  
“Evellien! For the last two years one person, well-known and dear to us, was missing. Now, Fen is back and she greeted me today saying, that there is something we all have a right to hear. I didn't hear it yet, like most of you. This is why we would like you all to listen.”  
At that, Fen approached him and stood at his side. He nodded to her and went to sit down. She looked around, took a breath and started:  
“You have no idea how good it is to see you all, but it's not all I wanted to say.”

Everybody was smiling warmly. Many of the Scoia'tael knew her and cared for her. Many were truly happy to see her and the rest just respected greatly the person, they've heard so much about.  
“I believe, that despite all the years I've known many of you, it is time to introduce myself properly. My name is Lyanna Elia marquess von Reichenbach” – she stated.  
A murmur went through all gathered. Many whats? and ohs? were audible. But she continued:  
“It will get better, I can assure you. I was an assassin and a spy sent to you by king Foltest of Temeria to infiltrate your ranks and to help you in the destabilisation of the kingdom of Redania. You can even say, that everything I've done - was done on the order of a dh'oine king.”  
Upon hearing this revelation the crowd exploded. Many were shouting and screaming in anger. Some were dumbfounded and looked betrayed. The hell broke lose. But Fen stood still, calm and proud. After Coinneach raised hands and silenced the crowd, she spoke again:  
“This meeting is not a merry gathering of old friends. This is a trial and I know your laws by heart: we all know, what is going to happen in the end. I am at your disposal.”  
She didn't offer any explanation or apology. She simply retreated to sit. The silence fell this time. It was Isengrim, who started:  
“Fen, it's not all...” – but he was soon interrupted by Toruviel:  
“You are not in a position to speak, Isengrim. This dh'oine played you, Coinneach and, probably, Iorveth. Maybe even more. Now, she confessed to the heaviest crime of all: she betrayed us. Although, I remember, what we owe to her - the sentence which is now hanging over her head is still death by beheading.”

_Fen! Speak, say something! Tell the whole truth. Come on, speak..._

“I must agree with Toruviel” – Fen stated calmly, still siting.

_Not that... What is wrong with you, luned?_

 

The great golden bird didn't leave the harbour. To the contrary: on the shelf in the mountain the bird sat and looked as if it was watching the gathering with curiosity.


	53. Francesca Lammas 1298

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, belong to their authors or legal successors.

 

THE AEN SEIDHE TALES

 

PART III

 

Owl, Kestrel, Osprey, Pelican, Wolverine, Lioness and Lion

 

FRANCESCA

 

Lammas 1298  
Dol Blathanna

_“Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of Elder Blood, of Hen Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but burst into flame._  
_Ess'tuath esse! Thus it shall be! Watch for the signs! What signs these shall be, I say unto you: first the earth will flow with the blood of Aen Seidhe, the Blood of Elves...”_

~ Aen Ithlinnespeath by Andrzej Sapkowski


	54. Cirilla Saovine 1297

CIRILLA

 

Saovine 1297  
Caed Myrkvid  
Toussaint

Coming back home to Corvo Bianco for the winter was always her favourite part of the old year, just like leaving in the spring - was her favourite part of the new year. This year she was somehow late, though... And Geralt and Yennefer shall be waiting for her, if they weren't arguing at the moment, obviously. This is exactly the reason why she preferred to be alone.

_No one to argue with about everything and anything, truly._

Now, at the edge of the great forest, she sat near the ancient alder and considered whether to go inside through the mist to greet the druids (they always liked her, surprisingly...) or to move on to Pomerol, further South. She decided, that one more night would change nothing and ventured into the great forest with Kelpie.  
When she got to the settlement, she saw a head of a griffin tied to a tree-branch and druids sitting around the rest of its body, preparing the feathers and skin, probably for ingredients. She greeted them:  
“Ceád'mil!”  
“Zirael!” – one of the druids, Fréimhe Saileach, exclaimed and stood up to greet her. – “We didn't expect to see you.”  
“I see you killed the griffin on your own, while it's my job to kill monsters” – she stated and smiled widely.  
“We didn't. We got help” – he replied.  
“Another witcher? Is Geralt here?” – she asked with hope in her voice.  
“No, luned. Two Aen Seidhe: Tylluan and Cudyll.”  
“Scoia'tael?”  
“No, they come from far away, but don't ask them about it. They are very careful. But I can tell you: trust them. They may be what you are looking for, even if you don't know it yet...”  
“You are sweet, Saoi” – a woman coming their way said politely.  
Ciri looked at her and held her breath. She was extremely beautiful, with bright chestnut hair falling down in studious, messy waves and grey eyes, which colour reminded Ciri of melted silver. She stood proudly, but far from arrogant - it was obvious, that in Caed Myrkvid she felt at ease.  
“Are we so lucky to meet the famous Zirael? My name is Cudyll and this is Tylluan” – another female Seidhe joined them motioning to her companion, she had darker chestnut, straight hair, which was cut shorter and azure eyes reminding Ciri of the sea in the midday sun.  
“I prefer Cirilla” – she spoke. – “It's a pleasure to meet you, Aen Seidhe.”  
“More than likewise!” – Cudyll exclaimed.  
“I've heard you killed the griffin...”  
“It wasn't easy, but it almost attacked us on the road. We thought, that the next people he attacks may not carry a silver with them” – Tylluan stated.  
“And it was a good fight, even better than with the manticore last month” – the other Seidhe said happily.  
Hearing the revelation Cirilla started to think: two travelling Aen Seidhe with silver swords?

_They are verily no Scoia'tael. They must have come from Dol Blathanna. But why?_

“What brings you here, to Toussaint?” – she asked.  
“We are in Caed Myrkvid” – Tylluan replied coldly.  
“But you know, what she meant. Let it go...” – Cudyll scolded her companion. – “We are bored and travelling with no true purpose, but to see the world” – she added merrily.

_Are you kidding me? They must be very young not to remember the pogroms, the terror. The world of humans is safer for them now, but still... there are those, who would hurt them. Is it my problem? No... yes? Maybe? Maybe I can take them with me to Corvo Bianco for a while... At least in Toussaint they are rather safe..._

“Do you want to see more of Toussaint? I'm travelling home, to Corvo Bianco. You are very welcome to join me” – Ciri offered.  
“Thank you, but...” – Tylluan started.  
“Yes! Wow! It would be great to travel with a witcheress!” – Cudyll exclaimed enthusiastically.  
“So it's decided” – Ciri stated before the other, probably older, could say anything.  
“All right” – Tylluan agreed reluctantly. – “Thank you for the offer, it was very nice of you.”  
They spent a night with druids and prepared for the road the next morning. Both Seidhe had double swords crossed at their backs, the left one was made of silver. They also had exquisite double-arc bows. She realised, that she had never seen bows like that and with such ornaments before. It was a true piece of art. She scrutinised their attire and belongings again. It was not extravagant, but the leather jackets, trousers and boots looked unique to her. They were no ordinary Seidhe from Dol Blathanna...  
They got on the road and conversed about trifle things. She realised, that they were both extremely young, as she expected. Much younger than her, even if she didn't look old despite her age. Yennefer's magic managed to keep her still looking as she was thirty, but it was an illusion - a magical trick.  
After the first day, she regretted her decision. It was not, what both girls did or said. To the contrary: they were an excellent company. It was easy to talk to them and they knew how to hunt and camp. Life on the path seemed to be familiar for them. But she started to think, that she took the responsibility for them. Why?

_I wanted to protect them... But travelling with a well-know witcheress may be dangerous itself._

Soon, it turned out, that she was right and she was wrong - at the same time. In the deep night, when she was keeping watch over their small camp near the Plegmund's bridge, out of no where she heard a sound. A sound she didn't like at all. A vampire. She stood up, took her sword and shouted:  
“Girls!”  
They were both up in a blink of an eye.  
“There is an oil for vampires in my luggage. In the violet phial. Put it on your swords, now.”  
They run and did, what they were told to do, within ten seconds and just in time. Ciri was right. It was a vampire and not just a bruxa or felder, it was a garkain with a bruxa and three felders.

_If I were alone I would be dead. But we are three... maybe..._

To her surprise, the girls knew what to do. They ran to her and stood with their backs to her and each other. In this circle, they stood their ground. They were lucky: one of the felders was already hurt and the other tried to run away. Cirilla fought with garkain and slew him, while Tylluan and Cudyll took care of the rest. When it was over, they were all hurt and bleeding. But shetruly held her breath when she noticed the blood flowing rapidly from Cudyll's chest...

_Fuck!_

The girl fainted, but they were able to stop the bleeding. Ciri and Tylluan packed their camp, put the girl on her horse and headed straight to Corvo Bianco. They got there the day after next, but Cudyll was waking up and passing out again for the whole day and night.  
When they galloped through the gates of the residence, it was Barnabas Basil, who greeted them:  
“Cirilla with friends! It is...” – but he trailed off seeing the unconscious Seidhe.  
“Ciri!” – Yennefer came out of the house and said nothing more, but helped them carry Cudyll inside.


	55. Crevan Yule 1297

CREVAN

 

Yule 1297  
Corvo Bianco  
Toussaint

It was always nice to come to Corvo Bianco. Not that he did it often, obviously, but it was not the first time he was there. The small, country residence of Geralt of Rivia was located in the middle of enchanting vineyard and olive grove. The mansion itself was much less impressive, but comfortable enough for a dh'oine work... He dismounted his horse before the main gate and decided to walk on foot.  
“Shh... Eredine, it's fine” – he whispered to his black mare and smirked to himself.  
Eredin Bréacc Glas would be furious, had he known, that Crevan called his horse after him.

_A serving animal... But Eredin is dead, not without the help from Geralt and Zirael. She will appreciate my little joke, for sure. How it went? Ah...There are mares who like strong caresses... Not this one, definitely... This one needs a carrot. This one has a saviour complex, so you need to give her something or someone to save. You never understood that, old friend._

Deep in his thoughts, he came to the door and knocked. Barnabas Basil opened it and greeted him jovially:  
“More guests, wonderful! Aen Saevherne, it is an honour to welcome you to Corvo Bianco, come inside, please.”  
This man had better manners, than all of the inhabitants of this place taken together. But, from reasons unknown even to him, he started to appreciate them all, sort of...  
“Avallac'h!” – Ciri called coming downstairs. – “I didn't expect you to come.”  
“It was the last minute decision, Zirael. I was in Tir ná Béa Arianne and I decided to come to greet you” – he answered.  
“Oh! Nonsense, stay for a while.”  
“You are too kind, but I guess, that I have a few days to spare. Is Geralt already back for the winter?”  
“No. And we have strange news, but first things first. There are more guests here and I think, you would be interested...” – Ciri continued.  
Just as she said that, through the main door came two Aen Seidhe. Two young females of extraordinary beauty. Even he admitted that. There was something wild in their appearances, that only added to his impression.

_Aen Seidhe... And so young... It is incredible._

They were both just a little bit shorter than him, both had chestnut hair and pale complexion. But one had a little brighter hair, coming down in nonchalant waves and big grey eyes, while the other had darker and shorter straight hair and azure eyes – deep as the sea itself. They were slender, but he realised, that their shapes were fuller than typically for Aen Seidhe.

_It is a rare thing even for Elle as old as me to see such shapes... Curious. But... Well, let's leave it for now._

“Tylluan, Cudyll may I introduce: Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha, Avallac'h.”  
“Enchanté” – he said bowing his head slightly.  
“Likewise, Aen Saevherne” – Tylluan said and both bowed deeply.

_So... you know your manners and you know who I am... How? Hmm..._

“Ciri spoke a lot about you” – Cudyll answered his internal question.  
“Ah... I hope not too much” – he replied politely.  
“It depends on what you mean as too much” – Tylluan stated with a small, mysterious smile.

_You are a true owl, while your sister is a kestrel. The vision came true, then. I'm sure Eithné will be interested... The legacy is stronger in your blood than we anticipated. If so, I was even more right to come here. We must start, at once. The clock is ticking relentlessly..._

“What extraordinary names” – he started.  
“They are more of nicknames” – Cudyll replied.  
“May I inquire as to the real names, then?” – he continued.  
“Why would you?” – Cudyll became suspicious.  
“Just out of a curiosity of the old Elle, I guess. The names have great value and may have great power. Look for example at Isengrim Faoiltiarna. His name is not only well known as a name of a great commander of Scoia'tael and the colonel of the Vrihedd Brigade, but it bears the meaning of its own: Fierce and Iron Wolf Lord.”  
“But he was no lord” – Tylluan interrupted.  
“Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't... The history of the Aen Seidhe is even more complicated than ours, the Aen Elle” – he answered cryptically.  
“Either way, his line ended in the Ravine of the Hydra almost thirty years ago” – Tylluan continued.  
“Some believe, that it didn't” – he replied. – “Some believe, that he was born to lead the way and his line is not so easy to end.”  
“And some believe, that we live in the eye of a huge giant... I didn't know, that you are now telling fairy-tales, Avallac'h” – it was a voice of Yennefer of Vengerberg, who was just coming downstairs.  
“Ceád'mil, Yennefer. Beautiful as always” – he greeted her.  
“Do not sugar-coat me, for you I'm just a daerienn and we all know that” – she said, but smiled.  
“But an extraordinary one. Even I wouldn't say otherwise” – he replied politely.  
“You want something, Avallac'h, I can feel it” – she stated.  
“On the contrary. But I may be in a better mood than usual.”  
“And why is that?” – Cirilla asked.  
“I called my mare Eredine” – he stated with a mocking smile.  
“You didn't!” – Cirilla exclaimed with a grin and they all laughed at that and conversed lightly further.

In the evening, Zirael and Yennefer told him about Geralt and that he was, supposedly, missing. To his uttermost surprise, obviously. He was not a man to be lost. Yennefer had met him in Dol Blathanna some months ago and they separated. As she came to Corvo Bianco, he wasn't there and didn't come later. They reported their dealings with Francesca Findabair and failed attempts to retrieve some more information from her. He started with a warning:  
“Do not push her. If she doesn't wish to reveal information, she just wouldn't.”  
“But... what are we to do?” – Cirilla asked, worried.  
“Wait for news from Kaer Morhen. You said, that Lambert and Keira Metz are to come here. If he left Dol Blathanna, he may have gone there before coming back to Corvo Bianco.”  
“Yes, I know. They are to be here in a few days.”  
“So be patient, Zirael.”  
“I hate it.”  
“I know” – he said with a small smile.

 

A few days later, the awaited guests arrived at last. Alas, his stay at Corvo Bianco was not an unpleasant distraction - a distraction it was and he had much more important things to do. Still, Geralt was not with them. The newcomers explained, that Geralt was not in Kaer Morhen, when they had left it and they heard nothing on their way. So he was truly missing. They decided to speak more the next day and all went to sleep. In the morning, he came to the garden, where all the rest has been already eating.  
“I have strange tidings” – he began to speak.  
“What is it Avallac'h?” – Yennefer asked, her voice was now full of worry.  
“I saw Geralt... in the darkness...” – he said as if pondering.  
“He is in danger. I knew it” – Cirilla interpreted his words at once. – “I'm going to Dol Blathanna tomorrow.”  
“Zirael it still may not be...” – he said, but was interrupted.  
“I do not care” – she replied.  
“All right, but don't go alone. The company of Aen Seidhe from Dol Blathanna will surely ease Francesca's reaction” – he suggested with a small smile.  
“You are right!” – she agreed at once. – “Tylluan, Cudyll would you take me to your home for a change?”  
The Seidhe looked at each other, but the older smiled warmly and said:  
“Obviously, Ciri. With pleasure”.  
“And may I speak with you, Yennefer and Keira, privately?” – he inquired.  
“Of course” – Keira stated and both sorceresses stood up and followed him deeper into the vineyard.  
“You may need help to track him down and Ciri may need help in Dol Blathanna. The two girls may not be enough” – he stated. – “Go beyond the Fiery Mountains to Bregdetit-të-Bardhë. I'll give you instructions. They say, that some of the Scoia'tael hid there from the world.”  
“What?” – Keira asked in a deep shock.  
“You'll see what you'll find. I don't know for sure, but I think you won't be disappointed.”  
With this last cryptic remark he retreated back to the mansion.


	56. Idril Birke 1297

IDRIL

 

Birke 1297  
Pomerol  
Toussaint

They were already on the road, but she had this feeling, which she couldn't let go...

_The Aen Saevherne knew more than he revealed. And now, he sent us on a fool's errand. I have a bad feeling about it... And... Oh... we are in a mess._

But they continued their journey and in Pomerol they stayed in an inn. Deoiridh was still not feeling fully recovered and she went to sleep early. Idril and Ciri went to her room with a bottle of wine. Already in Corvo Bianco they've established, that they share some... interests, but needed to be careful there. Right now, they could fully appreciate each other's company and they decided to exploit this opportunity to the fullest.  
Ciri was just lying flat on her stomach, while Idril was pleasuring her with both of her hands, kissing softly the scars on her back. And there were plenty of them. The white-haired woman was moaning loudly right now and was twitching slightly under Idril's touch. The young Seidhe smiled and a moment later, Ciri turned around and was facing her with a smile of her own. Idril leaned to kiss her and deep in their kiss, the older woman rolled them around and moved down to her soft spot. After she came, she was panting heavily. They were lying next to each other when Idril started:  
“My birth name... is Idril...”  
“It's a nice name, but I like your nickname, too. I think, that by now, it became kind of a pet-name for me” – Ciri replied.  
“It's a name from ancient legends, too...”  
“It is... The one who went both ways: there and back again...”  
“You think, that Avallac'h was right? That the name bears a significance?”  
“Maybe... But I think, that we are the masters of our own destiny. I defied Aen Elle schemes and we still managed to achieve the goal.”  
“You don't know it” – Idril stated pensively.  
“What do you mean?” – Ciri asked, turning to her side to face her.  
“There is no specific time for the Aen Ithlinnespeath to come true...”  
“But we defeated the White Cold, Tylluan.”  
“The White Cold is believed to be just a metaphor of the climate change. You cannot defeat the climate, Ciri.”  
“Uroboros...”  
“What?” – Tylluan asked.  
“I just remembered something someone told me a very long time ago... I'm not sure if I can repeat it correctly, but... It is the symbol of infinity, eternal departure and eternal returns. It has neither beginnings nor ends. Time is like Uroboros. Time is the passing moments, like grains of sand in an hourglass. We try to measure acts and events, but Uroboros reminds us that every moment, in every deed and every event lurks the past, the present and the future – in short, eternity. Every departure is also returning, every welcome is also a goodbye. Everything is simultaneously the beginning and the end.”  
“That sounds extraordinarily... can I meet this person? I believe it would be fascinating...” – Tylluan said dreamily.  
“No. He died, many years ago.”  
“Such a shame.”  
“It was” – Ciri said with sadness. – “You would like him and he would probably like you much more than he tried to like me.”  
“Why?”  
“You are a Seidhe and of extraordinary beauty, even for your race, luned” – Ciri answered, looking fondly at her naked body.  
“Hmm...”  
“And your companion? What's her name?”  
“My sister...”  
“I thought so, but... I hoped you would tell me on your own, one day.”  
“Deoiridh. Her name is Deoiridh.”  
“A pilgrim... Looks like your parents have a thing for travelling.”  
“No, not really. They've never left the place of their birth.”  
“But... for a century elves retreated from Dol Blathanna...”  
“Obviously” – Idril smiled quickly. – “But they stayed in the Blue Mountains, it's almost like Dol Blathanna.”  
“If you forget about the lack of flowers” – Ciri said mockingly and Idril covered her lies with a laugh and... her mouth on the other woman's womanhood.  
Needless to say, they spoke no more too busy with their... additional activities.


	57. Deoiridh Birke 1297

DEOIRIDH

 

Birke 1297  
Tir ná Béa Arianne  
Toussaint

They went up the Mount Gorgon. On its slopes they found the entrance and ventured to the caves. There, Ciri led them to the old elven place – cemetery... but even more a memory temple. Obviously, they knew the story of Lara Doren aep Shiadhal and Cregennan of Lod, though... she admitted, that the version Ciri told them was different than what they've heard from their parents long ago. Or she didn't remember correctly? Or... Ciri knew it better because of her ancestry? Either way, they were eager to see the statue.  
Ciri told them, that she have been here only once, in 1269, with Avallac'h. It was shortly after she left her parents – Geralt and Yennefer – barely alive on the Isle. Then, she went to another world and was met there by Avallac'h himself. Coming back here, just to see Tir ná Béa Arianne, was the beginning of their two-years journey through time and space. But mostly, was the beginning of mending their relation after what had happened in Tir ná Liá.  
They entered the caves with huge paintings on its walls. Deoiridh looked suspiciously at violet buffalo chased by humans with hmm... phalluses of an extraordinary size...

_They don't have so big here, do they? It's just a painting, isn't it?_

“It was a joke Avallac'h made at Geralt's bidding. These phalluses are not real” – Ciri confirmed her suspicions, to her relief.  
Ciri moved her hand with an amulet of sort hidden in her palm and the wall cracked, revealing the path and the dim light inside. But still, it was quite dark. Deoiridh flicked her hand and a small ball of light emerged above their heads to lead the way. Ciri looked at her and wondered at loud:  
“You are sorceresses”?  
“Well... we both can do a few tricks, but that's all “– she answered smiling.

They went on. In the main cave they saw it: sculptures, pillars... all in marble, which could only be Ammell marble.  
“This is new...” – Ciri stated slowly looking at the sculptures standing the nearest to them. – “Can it be? The Vrihedd?”  
There they stood... thirty-five sculptures of proud Aen Seidhe, males and females, in warriors clothing with bows and swords, ready for a battle. They looked... alive, as if they were just waiting for the order to march and all were looking to the East. Every officer was caught in a different position: some with weapons in their hands, some with hands in their pockets. Moreover, their features were displaying different emotions: one had a playful smirk, other a stern expression, some just cold determination. The Seidhe with a terrible scar on his face, standing slightly before the rest, looked like he was walking towards something with his hand extended - as if he was trying to catch a ghost. In the direction of their gaze stood the strangest statute. It was a bird... a phoenix? Its wings were proudly extended and it was caught as if trying to brush its feathers against the almost-walking Seidhe's hand, but they were separated by the path.  
“The phoenix” – Idril said pensively – “a symbol of the circle of life, of hope for new beginnings.”  
“But there is no hope for them” – Ciri replied sorrowfully. – “Not after...” – she trailed off and ventured further to stand in front of the female statute. – “Lara Doren aep Shiadhal. My ancestor. My blessing and my curse: Hen Ichaer.”

None of them spoke for a long time. They were just standing there, deep in their thoughts. It was Idril, who broke the silence:  
“Ciri...” – she whispered.  
“What?” – the woman asked surprised.  
“We are not from Dol Blathanna...” – Idril continued.  
“I guessed as much” – Ciri replied smiling. – “But it's not my business. Your company may still help.”  
“Obviously.”  
The last word was spoken by a new voice, which came from the direction of the entrance to the caves. They saw two men walking slowly towards them. One had greyish hair and gentle face, the other had raven-black hair and looked rather stern. They both wore black, elegant travelling attire. She felt something radiating from them and a strange feeling of an ancient fear overwhelmed her. Deoiridh asked slowly:  
“What are you?”  
“It's not a pleasant first question for such a tolerant person or at least it is what Yennefer thinks of you two. But I must admit, that your senses are extremely sensitive, even for a Seidhe... My name is Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, but you can call me Regis and this is Dettlaff van der Eretein, you can call him Dettlaff” – the man with greyish hair introduced them both. – “As to your question: we are higher vampires “– he added with a grin on his face.  
“Regis!” – Ciri exclaimed and went to hug him closely. – “It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dettlaff” – she continued and extended her hand to the other man.  
“Pleasure is all mine, Cirilla” – he replied quietly.  
“I am...” – Deoiridh started – “sorry for my bluntness.”  
“There is nothing to be sorry for, girl. You are extremely young, but you know a lot and what you probably know about my kin is not too encouraging. But don't worry, I'm an abstinent and Dettlaff, well, doesn't feed on my friends” – Regis chuckled in the end.  
“That is... nice of him” – Idril joined the discussion with a mix of sarcasm and uncertainty in her voice.  
“Do not fear me, girl” – Dettlaff said in a deep and quiet voice, approaching her sister with extended hand. – “Though, I must admit,that your young blood's scent is intoxicating” – he added with a smirk the moment she shook his hand. – “Your hand is shaking, but you still hold the grip. You are unbreakable, aren't you...? What is your name?”  
“Tylluan.”  
“Indeed.”

They all greeted, though Deoiridh's hand was shaking slightly, too. They knew, that they had no chance against two - even one - higher vampire. But... Ciri trusted them, so they trusted them, too.  
“We followed your trial from Corvo Bianco. Yennefer has already informed us of Geralt's disappearance. We are ready to help you in any way, Cirilla.”  
“Thank you, to tell the truth, I don't even know what to do now... I wanted to go to Dol Blathanna, but Avallac'h warned me, that it may not work...”  
“We will join you and probably around Aldersberg - we will proceed North before you to scout the road” – Regis offered.  
“Agreed” – Ciri stated and smiled at him warmly.  
In the meantime, Dettlaff was inspecting closely the statues of officers of the Vrihedd Brigade.  
“Did you know any of them?” – Deoiridh started the conversation.  
“Not personally, but I've heard of them. Fierce and ruthless warriors. Terrible in their anger and hatred. Betrayed in the end and executed in such a humiliating way. Their story is a tragic one, little girl. But they worked for years for this end.”  
“What do you mean?” – Idril joined them.  
“They were killing people, murdering innocents, torturing prisoners, raping women... Then, they betrayed the Nordlings - by fighting for the Nilfgaardian emperor, Emhyr var Emreis, or at least it's how the Nordlings perceive it. The list is long. But it's not why they were executed.”  
“So why?” – Idril continued asking.  
“They dared to walk proud and tall in the open, showing their separateness. They dared to be different and proud of it. But I believe, that you've heard that already...”  
“It's always good to know other perspectives, especially impartial like yours” – Deoiridh replied.  
“Impartial? There is no such thing as neutrality... However, you are right, we didn't take part in the war between humans and elves” – Dettlaff said pondering. – “But... this world without the Aen Seidhe would be poorer, much would be lost with them: lore, knowledge, understating of nature, probably magic, beauty and art... Although, the Scoia'tael were not the best examples of any of those. They were blood-thirsty and raging bands of young elves, who believed, that they had no choice, but to wage a hopeless war and to die. And so they did, just not as they had hoped to. They were too young to understand that and now it is too late. They will be young forever, like these statues...”  
“But there is hope, too” – Regis interrupted. – “The phoenix is here to symbolise it. That not all is lost, yet.”  
“It's a fool's hope, my friend” – Dettlaff stated resignedly. – “But we understand a hopeless hope as well as they do... In this strange world, in which we were all imprisoned...”

She found it deeply saddening, but in a dark way fascinating, too. Just when she was leaving the caves, she looked once more at officers of the Vrihedd Brigade and bowed her head slightly. Then, she heard her sisters' voice:  
“What do you think our parents would say if they saw as saluting to these statues?”  
“That hatred is never the way” – Deoiridh answered.  
“And that it's not a justification. Yes... I think so.”  
“But what do you think standing here?”  
“That dwelling in a dark past is only a way to go down. That pride is not a reason for killing anyone. Nothing really is, maybe but for a self-defence...”  
“And racism is always a prejudice, even coming from the disadvantaged” – Deoiridh added.  
“We are on the same page, then” – Idril stated.  
“Yes, but we must be careful around Aen Seidhe from here, they may call as traitors” – Deoiridh added.  
“I agree.”  
They left Tir ná Béa Arianne deep in the discussion about the fate of Aen Seidhe and vampires. It was a truly depressing discussion about the end of their race... Still, they began their journey North.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hans Zimmer „Chevaliers de Sangreal”


	58. Cidran Feainn 1297

CÍDRAN

 

Feainn 1297  
Rivia  
Lyria and Rivia

Orgies in the Northern Realms... He thought, that they taste the same anywhere you engage in such an activity. But he was wrong. Obviously, the sweat, the blood, the cum were the same, but... Here they were... more free - without a constant disproving gaze of his parents... Was it his fault, that they decided to limit themselves to each other? That they were so terribly, boringly faithful for gods know how long? Since the day they've met? No, it wasn't. But he - he wanted to taste them all...  
Caelebran was a little bit terrified, when he learned, that their journey into maturity, as he planned it - would really be a journey into as many men and women Cidran could find. But after a few experiences, he found Cidran's plan better, too. Or at least stopped complaining, but it's rather hard with something in your mouth, isn't it?  
It was a little bit strange to journey together, Caelebran was for a long time deadly upset over Idril or rather... Cidran's and Idril's one-night-stand encounter on a sailing-boat. But he got over it and her, at least to some extent. As for Cidran, well... Idril was... flexible.

_And those breasts... like they were made for... well... It was an interesting experience and educational one to be with her, without a doubt. Or maybe... never mind._

But it was on the road, where they were collecting a real experience: in Glevitzigen, in Scala and in Spalla and now, in Rivia. The Aen Seidhe community was not a numerous one here, in Rivia and Lyria, but they encountered at least few truly experienced let's call them... mentors, both sexes, obviously.

_En'ca minne... How could we have never heard this phrase before? I loved it the second I heard it. And I know it was about battlefield close-to-death experience and so on, but... isn't any love a battle?_

“This raven-black hair of yours... It's incredible” – the female Seidhe spread in front of him murmured softly. – “You are so young, Cidran, I cannot remember so exhausting night... How long do you plan to stay?”  
“We leave the day after tomorrow” – he said with a huge grin on his face, making a stop in slowly trailing his way to her clitoris with his tongue.  
“Oh... don't stop” – she whispered and moaned loudly.  
“But I must... to do this” – he said smiling and pushed himself inside her.  
“Oh! Oh... I can live with that” – she replied teasingly.

A while later he went to get some drink only to find Caelebran quite occupied with two Seidhe females.

_Well... As I thought..._

He wanted to come back to his previous partner, but was invited for a threesome by blond man and brown-haired woman. Both looking delicious.

_And who would say no to a threesome?_

The next evening they started in the Inn run by a dwarf, which was called “The Witcher's Sword”. They've met there mostly dwarfs and Aen Seidhe. Most of the guests were talking about the pogrom from thirty years ago, then about the Scoia'tael. Some shitty stories, too. He didn't know much about these things, truly. But what he has heard since they came here, made him seriously grateful, that their parents (and now they) lived where they lived: in peace and quiet. He liked this adventure, this journey, but he knew, that he has a home to go back to. He liked messing around, but this... No. This would be too much.  
His thoughts were interrupted by a young male Seidhe, who came and sat with them, asking:  
“Does any of you fight?”  
“Like...?” – Caelebran asked slowly.  
“No, not like them. There are no Scoia'tael any more. I mean fists.”  
“Obviously!” – Cidran exclaimed. – “The wager?”  
“10.”  
“I'm in.”  
“By the way, my name is Adair.”  
“Cidran.”  
“Let's fight.”

So he fought and won three out of three fights. Then, they sat with more young Aen Seidhe and conversed merrily about trivia, mostly women, obviously. But after a few shots of vodka, Cidran picked up his second favourite topic: sailing.  
“You sail? How? I've never heard of sailing Seidhe in my life...” – one of their new friends asked curiously.  
“I... worked in the docks. I sailed a little bit, then.”  
“Oh. I see.”

_Shit. No more talking about sailing._

But the truly shocking event happened when they all left the inn. The five of them were quickly surrounded by more than ten humans.  
“Money, now!” – one of the dh'oine snarled.  
“We don't have any” – Adair replied.  
“But the one with black hair has, he won three wages” – another of their attackers said with a viscous smile.  
“Give him the money, Cid” – Adair urged him.  
“I don't think so” – Cidran replied slowly.  
“No? What do you say about that?” – the first man showed him a dagger.  
“I'll show you mine” – it was Caelebran, who motioned to his longsword fastened to the belt.  
“Harry, come on. Not today” – one of the men stated.  
“I don't like these two. The rest, run. Chop-chop or...”  
“Adair, listen to him. We will be fine. Go” – Cidran said slowly.  
“Sorry, but no” – Adair and his friends stood their ground firmly.

There was a fight for a while, but the attackers ran away rather quickly. Cidran smiled in a triumph at his first real combat experience, but then he heard Caelebran's terrified voice:  
“Cidran! They... he...”  
“What?”  
“They are dead.”  
It was then, as Cidran realised, that all three of their companions laid on the ground and did not move.

_What?! What is wrong with this place?!_

“We should... we...” – Cidran started, but trailed off.  
“We must run” – Caelebran decided. – “We are not here, remember?”  
“But to leave them like that? They are fucking dead!”  
“I know, but we must.”

They packed in a hurry and left the city before the dawn. But Cidran was still in shock.

_It was my fault... It was my fault... They died because of me... And for what? The money, which I don't even need. What have I done?_


	59. Caelebran Feainn 1297

CAELEBRAN

 

Feainn 1297  
the road near Aldersberg  
Aedrin

In Rivia, their sex-trip Cidran planned, turned in the journey into maturity, as he planned. Well... not the way it was supposed to look like... He realised, that he had never seen a dead man before. And it was terrifying. Truly. They both vomited the second they left the city and decided never to speak about it ever again. So, their journey to Aldersberg was a silent one.  
A day before arriving in the city, they camped in the evening deep in the forest. Just when they wanted to get some sleep, the man in a dark travelling attire and raven-black hair walked slowly to their camp. They both moved to their swords, but the man was clenching Cidran firmly in a blink of an eye.  
“Hmm... I can smell you and scents of few women still linger on you...” – he said and licked his mouth.  
“Vampire!” – Caelebran exclaimed in terror.  
“Yes, a higher vampire. And your small silver daggers, though useful for drowners, will do me no harm. But I...” – he pulled out his long claws and his teeth were dangerously close to Cidran's throat.  
“What do you want?” – Caelebran tried to get some time to think. He knew, that he needed to stall.  
“Isn't it obvious? Your young, tasty, crimson red blood” – the vampire answered almost seductively and tilted his head to Cidran.  
“Are you going to kill us?” – Caelebran continued.  
“Well maybe, maybe not. Now, I just plan to get a taste of both of you to decide, which will be the first.”  
After that sentence, he sunk his teeth into Cidran's neck. His friend yelped and Caelebran shouted:  
“Fuck! Stop!”  
“Dettlaff!” – another male voice came and the newcomer already freed his friend from the vampire's grip.

 _He did it in a blink of an eye. Is he...? Fuck! Another one? You got to be kidding me.._.

“I couldn't stop myself. After travelling for such a long time with those tasty little things I just...” – the vampire called Dettlaff stated slowly.  
“I know, my friend. They all smell delicious. But it's not a reason to attack random young Seidhe. What is your name, boy?” – the other vampire asked and approached Cidran.  
“Get away from me!” – his friend shouted and ran to Caelebran's side.  
“My name is Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy and I'm an abstinent longer than you are alive. Come with me. I left my kit and herbs in the camp. I'll help you and my friend here won't harm you again.”  
“Aha. Fuck off. We're not going...” – Cidran started but was interrupted by the arrival of an almost white-haired, but still looking rather young, woman with a scar on her cheek.  
“What? Dettlaff...” – she sighed. – “Thank you, Regis, dor your quick reaction” – she stated and turned to them, saying: – “My name is Cirilla. I know, that it was a terrifying experience, but now everything is OK. But Regis must tend to your wound or it'll become infected. Come with us.”  
“Cirilla as in Zirael?” – Caelebran inquired.  
“Yes, but I prefer Ciri.”  
“I may go, but I want you to tend to my wound. I don't trust this vampire” – Cidran said smirking.

_You were just attacked by a vampire and you already think about sex? What is wrong with you?_

“We will see” – she replied with a smile. – “Now, come.”

Once they saw the fire and their new companions headed to the camp, Cidran said with a grin:  
“If I get to fuck her this whole vampire-thing would be worth it.”  
“What is wrong with you? I...” – but Caelebran didn't finish his reply.  
“Cidran! Caelebran!” – it was Idril calling their names with a huge grin on her lips.  
“Idril...” – they both replied simultaneously and looked at each other with confusion.

_Well... you told me, that she was a one-night-stand, but... I should have known better. You wouldn't risk our friendship just for that. Fuck... Your voice gave you up, you idiot._

The four young Seidhe talked for the whole night about their journeys. Somehow, Scoia'tael became quickly the main subject of the conversation. They all learned stories, which they wished they could unhear. It was almost dawn when he asked:  
“What do our parents know about the world?”  
“Yeah... I agree” – Deoiridh supported him. – “They have no idea what dh'oine and Aen Seidhe were doing here, in the Realms.”  
“They are so naïve, so... innocent and good. I mean...” – Idril joined them.  
“Their tolerance and goodness would lead them to the early grave in a place like here. Did you hear these crazy stories about Ysbryds, as well?” – Caelebran asked.  
“Yeah. They say, that they left no one alive. Ever” – Idril confirmed.  
“And we've heard, that Scoia'tael were skinning people and they were impaling them just to watch while eating... I mean. Sick” – Cidran added.  
“They were all seriously fucked up” – Idril stated.  
“I would never even shake hands with any of them” – Deoiridh stated with finality in her voice and they all agreed.

  
In the morning, Regis and Dettlaff left them to scout, while all the rest prepared for the road to Vengerberg.


	60. Idril Feainn 1297

IDRIL

 

Feainn 1297  
Vengerberg  
Aedrin

They were travelling for a few days before they saw the walls of the city of Vengerberg in the distance. They just emerged from the forest and came to the meadow full of blooming flowers of poppy. _Red like blood_ she thought, but quickly decided not to think about it. Just when she passed by the last tree she saw something and shrieked:  
“Idril? Are you all right?” – Ciri was by her side at once.  
“Squirrel's tail” – she said slowly and pointed at the tree branch.  
“Fuck!” – Ciri murmured. – “We need to leave this place, at once.”  
But she said it too late. Close to them, on the Southern part of the meadow, stood a cottage. Right then, a man emerged from it with a longbow in his hands, pointing an arrow at them. She took her bow, too. In a matter of a second, an arrow flew and stuck in the tree next to her head. The man whistled.

_A signal. But we don't know the reply._

It was Cidran, who kept the cold blood and raised his hands, then started to walk slowly towards the man. When he saw a young Seidhe coming in his direction, he lowered the bow. They all followed slowly. The man looked as if he was fifty-something: greyish and with tired eyes. But he was still in a perfect shape. Idril heard Cidran saying:  
“We are sorry for trespassing. We mean you no harm, sir. We were just passing by, when my friend saw the squirrel's tail and we were just in s shock. Sorry for bothering you, we are just leaving.”  
“Hmm... Four young Seidhe and a witcheress at my doorstep. Shocked by the Scoia'tael symbol. Interesting... Why the tail shocked you?” – the man asked.  
“Well... they are gone - Scoia'tael. Why would anyone still display it?” – Cidran asked a question in return.  
“Neen evelienn Scoia'tael marw... there are still those fighting in the woods, in the North. As long as the last commando fights, this place will be open for any Aen Seidhe” – he stated sternly. – “Didn't you hear the story about my cottage?” – the man asked with confusion.  
“No... we come from Metinna. We don't know much about things here...” – Cidran replied  
“Aye. Your parents were fighting in the Vrihedd Brigade and stayed there after Brenna, then?”  
“No... I... they are as peaceful as it gets. They were living there in a community for a long time” – Cidran answered slowly.  
“Well... they either lied to you or were one of a few very lucky ones. But I understand. After the execution in the Ravine of the Hydra - nothing was the same any more. And even Yeavinn's and Iorveth's determination couldn't change it...” – he trailed off. – “It's getting dark. My cottage is not big, but we'll squeeze in. I have mead and beer. Come inside. By the way – my name is Peter.”

They all looked at each other and pondered. But they were five and armed, and he was alone. What could happen? Ciri was the one to make the decision and she entered. The rest followed her closely.  
They listened for hours to Peter's stories about Scoia'tael and how it was Isengrim Faoiltiarna himself who saved his life, back in 1259. Since then, he was helping Aen Seidhe any way he could, mostly by providing the shelter in his cottage. He also said, that the meeting before the attack on Thanedd had been held there. At this revelation, Ciri went pale, but spoke nothing. Cidran sat closer to her and whispered something in her ear, at once colour came back to her face and cheeks. Peter observed their interaction and said:  
“You know, young one. You remind me of Iorveth. He was fucking anyone he could get his hands on, too. This man had real stamina and a taste for sex, too. For both sexes, actually” – Peter added chuckling. – “One day he came here with the famous Fen.”  
“Fen, the leader of the Ysbryds?” – Idril inquired.  
“The same. The leader of the group of extraordinary warriors... The Riders they were called in the North and were known for helping Scoia'tael in their fight. They even had a saying: If you are trapped, with no way out, pray for them to come and you may yet survive. But no promises have ever been made... They were miracle-makers. But on Nilfgaardian soil they had a different name: Ysbryds and they brought death.”  
“We heard that story. She must had been quite a woman” – Deoiridh stated.  
“Not a woman, girl. The woman. One of the finest warriors of the shadows of our times. And she fought in Vergen, too. With Saskia the Dragonslayer and Iorveth, for the freedom of the Pontar Valley. This woman... well... I guess, that I respected her too much to think what I would do with her, if... Either way. She was with Iorveth in my cottage for five days. When I came here to clean... they had left a real mess, you have no idea... I don't think that there was anything they didn't do in this cottage” – they all chucked. – “And some time before them, it was Isengrim Faoiltiarna himself, who came with his lover - a chestnut beauty. I tell you, another precious one. But they left everything in perfect order, though by the look on their faces before they got in here... they had plans, too” – another chuckle was heard. – “You know... once I've heard, that Fen was actually with Isengrim” – he continued. – “So... it was quite complicated, mind you. And Isengrim and Iorveth were like brothers, truly. I was thinking for a long time if this woman destroyed that even before Brenna... Although, I guess, that many men would die just for a night with her. And I tell you, she wasn't so extremely beautiful as either of you, young ladies. But... there was a fire in her and something dark, a danger. I believe, that men just flew to her like moths to the light, even if it burned them in the end. But... these are ancient stories. They are all dead now” – he ended with true sadness.  
“Isengrim died with other officers of his Vrihedd in the Ravine of the Hydra in 1269, didn't he?” – Caelebran inquired.  
“Yes.”  
“And Iorveth and Fen?” – Deoiridh asked.  
“In Saovine in 1272. I've heard, that they died together, leading one of the last remaining Scoia'tael commandos. They say, that they were both pierced by so many arrows, that they looked like hedgehogs... A true pity...”

They slept in a safe place that night, but were far from ease. The more they learned about those people the less they liked them. However, Scoia'tael were Aen Seidhe, as were they... she didn't feel any sympathy.


	61. Cirilla Feainn 1297

CIRILLA

 

Feainn 1297  
Dol Blathanna

They arrived in the Valley of the Flowers in the early night a few days later. In the dim moonlight flowers blooming in hundred colours looked like enchanted. Cirilla and her travelling companions decided to avoid any settlements before they got to the city around Francesca's palace. They arrived in the city the next day at midday. It was truly breathtaking. The lace-like ornaments reminded her of Tir ná Liá at once. Young trees, bushes, flowers and grass were penetrating every street and building, creating typical Aen Seidhe architecture. There was truly no boundary between the city and meadows around it.  
Once they were inside the city, its inhabitants were observing them with curiosity. Everyone was carrying a weapon. Although they walked surely and proudly, she could feel, that even her young elven companions started to be afraid and they were right to be. She couldn't foresee what would happen next and all of the Aen Seidhe here knew how to fight. She heard, that even some former Scoia'tael hid here.  
It was as they got closer to the palace when their way was blocked by three Seidhe. One, standing in the middle - had silver hair, the two on his sides - had dark brown, but slightly greyish hair.  
“Cirilla Fiona Ellen Riannon, Zirael. We were expecting you, though not in a company” – the Seidhe she knew greeted her.  
“Lord Filavandrel aén Fidháil. Ceád'mil. I was lucky to meet some friends on the road. I didn't plan to come in a company, either” – she replied and bowed deeply, all of the young Seidhe followed. – “I hope, that it's not a problem.”  
“Not in the slightest. Every Aen Seidhe is welcome to Dol Blathanna” – Filavandrel answered slowly, scrutinising them all. – “Galarr will take you to see the Queen, while I'll keep the company to your friends.”

With fluttering heart and fear in her soul - she nodded, glanced once more at her friends, but followed the Seidhe. They ascended the palace stairs in silence. Inside, they passed by few doors, but in the end her guide opened a huge double-door and she got into the throne room.  
It was empty but for her and the Queen of the Free Elves: Enid aen Gleanna. Ciri realised, that what she had heard was true: the most beautiful woman in the world haven't aged even a day since their last meeting. The Seidhe looked at her and greeted her:  
“Zirael, it is good to see you again, luned.”  
“Your Grace” – Ciri dropped on one knee.  
“Rise, my dear. We are old friends after all and you have royal blood in your vains.”  
“Thank you, Enid.”  
“I know what brings you here - your father, Gwynbleidd...”  
“Yes. I know, that you were contacted by Yen, but I hoped, that maybe I can find his trail here.”  
“We received news in the meantime. Yennefer has been already informed.”  
“What news?” – Ciri inquired hopefully.  
“He went to Lan Exter, though we do not know the nature of his business there” – the Queen replied calmly.  
“Ah... still, thank you.”  
“I remember, that it was usually him looking for you. More than once. Now, I see that the roles are reversed.”  
“We were warned, that he may be in danger.”  
“I see” – Enid replied with no interest. – “Well, I was informed, that you are travelling with four young Seidhe.”  
“Yes.”  
“Where are they from?”  
“Metinna.”  
“Ah... my beloved Vrihedd...”  
“Well, their parents were not fighting and they are too young, they were born after... the war.”  
“You wanted to say: after the Ravine. You do not need to remind me of that, luned” – the Queen stated coldly. – “We lost our best warriors and dear friends there. Death of Coinneach Da Réo, Isengrim Faoiltiarna and many others will always lay a shadow on Dol Blathanna. But it is not the concern of yours, Zirael.”  
“Yes, Your Grace. Do we have your permission to leave?”  
“You can go as you please. As to your companions... we will first make them an offer, but... I will not keep them here by force.”  
“Obviously” – Ciri replied coldly, but spoke no more.

She was allowed to spend a night in the palace, but her friends were no where to be found. It was the next day at midday when she was led to them at last. They have been already packed and waited for her in the stables.  
“What...?” – she started.  
“Not here, we must leave” – Idril answered and they left the city.

Outside the city, she looked back and noticed Filavandrel on his horse standing at the outskirts of the city and watching them depart. He didn't move until she lost him from her sight.  
They didn't stop until they crossed Dyfne in the direction of Vergen. There, after a day and a half on horses, they collapsed even before they made a camp.  
In the morning, they were waking up one by one. But young Seidhe still didn't speak. It was after the breakfast as Caelebran began:  
“They wanted us to stay.”  
“I guessed that much” – she replied.  
“Filavandrel... he was very welcoming and talked a lot about the history of Aen Seidhe here. It was all nice until he started to inquire about our place of birth...” – the boy continued.  
“Is there something wrong with being born in Metinna?” – Ciri inquired.  
“No... I don't know. It was strange. And he was very interested in our parents. He was asking all sort of questions about them” – he added.  
“Oh?” – she asked.  
“But it's hard to talk about your father, if you've never even met him, isn't it?” – Caelebran replied with a question.  
“I agree. Let's forget all of that. We know where to go, so we achieved what we came for. Now, we must head to Vergen” – she said warmly and all nodded.

Back on the road, she was thinking.

_These young Seidhe will be thinking about this visit for a long time. Do they plan to come back?_

But she didn't ask.


	62. Cidran Lammas 1297

CÍDRAN

 

Lammas 1297  
Vergen  
the Pontar Valley

The road to Vergen led through almost impassable hills, but Ciri knew the way well. Her friends, dwarves, lived there and she was their guest more than once. The City of Stones was impressive, though he could not forget Dol Blathanna: the Aen Seidhe ancestral lands. They left in fear, but... something was still calling them back.

_Maybe it is what Filavandrel said? That it is our home, our place, our legacy... But we have home... We live in a peaceful paradise, why shall we yearn for a dangerous, although an enchanting place like the Valley of the Flowers? I don't know..._

They arrived in the city in the evening and no one stopped them at the city gate. It was some time later when a strong dwarf with an axe came their way.  
“Zoltan!” – Ciri exclaimed and went to greet him.  
“Ciri! It's good to see you, lassie” – he greeted her back. – “And who are your friends?”  
“Not here.”  
“OK. We go to my place then. Yarpen and Skalen are waiting there.”

He led them through the City of Stones to a residential area. On the way, they saw some ruins, destroyed houses and evidence of fights. The dwarf opened big doors and led them inside to a spacious and quite comfortable house. Two dwarfs sitting at a table stood up and came to greet them all. Yarpen was looking at Deoiridh with curiosity for a long time before she snapped:  
“Mr. Zigrin?”  
“Yarpen, lassie.”  
“Yarpen... is there something wrong with my face?”  
“What?! No, obviously, you are extremely beautiful, lassie. It's just...” – he trailed off.  
“What?”  
“You remind me of someone I knew a long time ago...”  
“Who?”  
“Oh... she had many names: Fen, Cerbin, Death...”  
“The leader of the Riders?” – Deoiridh inquired and everyone else went silent.  
“Here we called them the Death Squad and not without a reason. When she arrived, during the siege, with her men and Iorveth with his Scoia'tael - the attackers turned into prey and started to fell like flies... These two... well... they were a pair made in the depths of hell, that is for sure” – he chuckled to his memories. – “The city flowed in Kaedweni blood soon. It was a massacre, a view hard to forget even for an old soldier like me” – Yarpen stated.  
“True” – Skalen started. – “Thankfully her loyalty to Iorveth was unbreakable and his loyalty to Saskia ran deeper than anything else. I miss our Virgin... I always thought, that they both would come back here, together. But... then things changed.”  
“Yes. Yes, they did. I wonder sometimes where she is” – Yarpen said with sadness. – “I've never believed the news of her death.”  
“I know, Yarpen” – Zoltan joined the discussion. – “But if she was alive, someone would have found her by now or she would have come back on her own. Even a dragon can be slain, my friend...”  
“A dragon?” – Cidran asked, shocked.  
“Yes, she was” – Skalen answered him. – “Impressive one and dangerous, too. A golden dragon.”  
“Wow!” – the young Seidhe exclaimed.  
“You have no idea, lass. And she led us to the crushing victory during the siege. It's thanks to her, that we live in Free Pontar Valley... even, if we needed to make some concessions” – Yarpen stated in sadness.  
“Concessions?” – Idril asked curiously.  
“Yes, lassie. We... bent the knee. But enough of the ancient history. What brings you here, Ciri?” – he asked.  
“We are looking for Geralt. He supposedly headed to Lan Exter, so I decided to make a stop here on our way. We need a good night's sleep” – she answered.  
“Great! It's always good to have you, lassie” – Zoltan replied enthusiastically.

They spent two days in Vergen, but the road called them back, soon.


	63. Gilbert Lammas 1297

GILBERT

 

Lammas 1297  
Flotsam  
Temeria

The ruins of Cáelmewedd were terribly quiet. Almost no one was venturing here any more. The last Scoia'tael commando was roaming more to the West from here and the Seidhe community almost disappeared from Flotsam. He liked coming here when he was in the town. The statute of the eternal lovers was always calling him back. From the ruins, he looked down and needed to rub his eyes a few times.  
There she stood. An elven girl with chestnut hair in travelling attire and with her weapons fastened on her back. Her hair was moving slightly in the wind like leaves and her slender figure reminded him of a young tree.

_Oh... She is beautiful... No... breathtaking._

Just as he was pondering, he heard quiet moans coming from under his feet. The whispers of eternal lovers, which could be heard only by those in love...

_I've never heard them before, but now, seeing her... I must meet her._

He descended the hill and neared to the meadow, where she was walking leisurely. The light of the setting sun was enlightening her in orange and then bright red. She was a true vision.

_I cannot breathe..._

He couldn't explain, how he gathered his courage to call softly after her:  
“Tinúviel!”  
She turned around and looked at him curiously. Then, she approached him with a warm smile and said:  
“My name is Cudyll.”  
“But you are still the fairest of the children of this world...”

She laughed softly, but didn't avert her gaze from him. She asked teasingly:  
“You haven't met Francesca Findabair, have you?”  
“No, but I doubt, that my heart will ever change its mind.”  
“Is your heart so unalterable?”  
“It is.”  
“And would you, son of humans, go at my father's bidding into Aenyell'hael, the baptism of fire, just to win a chance to court me?”  
“Is a gem more precious for your father than the jewel before my eyes?”  
“Not for a gem, but to prove your valour and intent such a trial may yet be set. But probably rather by myself, than by my father” – she stated with a smirk.  
“Then I would go, willingly.”

She smiled at him again and inquired further:  
“And you think, that I would follow?”  
“The heart always knows its way.”  
“Do you think, that you have my heart, already?”  
They both smiled, but their conversation was interrupted by the emergence of a man a a woman from the baths. They both looked more than content.  
“Do you see her?” – Cudyll asked with resignation in her voice.  
“As from now, I can only see you” – he said, however, he looked in the pointed direction.  
“It's nice of you to say. Because it is her, whom every man desires. But her heart is neither stable nor warm... Even though she is my sister, I would still even call her cruel in her pursuit.”  
“And who are you?” – it was an angry question, asked by another Saidhe, which came from behind them.  
“Gilbert, Gilbert McDonnegan” – he answered, however realisation, that all four newcomers carried weapons caused his voice to shake slightly.  
“He is with me” – Cudyll stated.  
“You know nothing of him, sis” – the young Seidhe female stated.  
“I know enough.”  
“Just... go to the forest and be over with it. We must go soon” – the other woman continued.  
“You mistook me for yourself, sister. I want him to stay with us, if he agrees.”

He still wasn't sure why he did it, but he said:  
“Anywhere you go, I will gladly follow.”  
“Sis... for the love of gods!” – the other Seidhe started again, but gave up – “All right... just don't run away with him, I beg you. Parents would kill me.”  
“I won't” – Cudyll stated with a smile.

_Did I just get to the group of young Scoia'tael? My uncle would be proud, probably, but..._

He fished a small piece of paper out of his pocked. There was a message written on it:

_Neen evelienn Scoia'tael marw. Cáemm aep woedd, holl Aen Seidhe. Darganfod an uniade ninnau._  
_Ymladda dh'oine. Ess'tedd, esse creasa._

He read it silently again and handed it to Cudyll, asking:  
”Is it yours? I took it off, forgive me, but the elves in Flotsam were quite nervous about it.”  
“No” – she stated firmly. – “We are no Scoia'tael, Gilbert. We are just travellers on our way to Roggeveen. We don't wish to meddle in any Scoia'tael business. And we have nothing against humans” – she added with a warm smile.

_I am a fool. I'm in love with her already..._

After their conversation, they headed to the camp, where they spent the night. He woke up early, while Cudyll was still sleeping soundly in her blankets close to his. He was watching her sleep for a while.

_Creep. I've become a creep. Great._

Just as he was thinking, she woke up slowly and asked playfully:  
“It's a little bit creepy, don't you think?”  
“Yes. Yes, I do, but I couldn't help myself” – he replied slowly.  
“Is there any reason for your staring?  
“Why did your sister say that?”  
“What?”  
“That you would run away...”  
“I... tend to do that.”  
“Why?”  
“Well, it's easier. And it works.”  
“Would you run away from me?”  
She looked at him pensively, with a small smile on her lips, before she whispered:  
“I don't think so.”

They both smiled and got up to start the fire and prepare breakfast. An hour later, they were all gone and left no traces of their presence.


	64. Deoiridh Velen 1297

DEOIRIDH

 

Velen 1297  
Drakenborg  
Redania

Around the Drakenborg prison, there was a small, wooden town. Well... more like a few houses around the market square. At first, they intended to pass it by, but then Ciri stated, that they would need some indigents for Cidran's healing oil and they needed to find a herbalist. So, reluctantly, they decided to enter the town.  
When they did, she realised at once, that it was a huge mistake: the town was full of people and soldiers. In the market-square stood a scaffold.

_Execution. Great. Exactly what we needed._

On the scaffold, stood only one man - a proud and quite young Seidhe with medium-cut, dishevelled, light-brown hair. He was handsome, even with the small scars on his cheek and above his left eye. He was only tied with a rope, but the presence of numerous soldiers around here was enough to ensure, that he wouldn't escape. When she was looking at the man, she felt Gilbert's hand on her own and he whispered:  
“I know him.”  
“What?” – she asked in disbelieve.  
“I know him. He is the last commander.”  
“You know Scoia'tael?”  
“Not many. But he saved my life last year. I... owe him.”  
“What?! Are you crazy? There is nothing you can possibly do. We must run and quickly.”  
But she said it too late. The moment she locked her eyes with fearless eyes of the man, who was just about to be executed, a dh'oine standing next to them shouted:  
“Scoia'tael!” – and pointed his finger at them.  
The soldiers around them started to approach them quickly. There was no where to run but ahead - in the direction of the scaffold. And so they did. They stood with their backs to the scaffold and with weapons in hands. Ciri started:  
“We are not...” – but trailed off, seeing Gilbert getting on the scaffold and freeing the prisoner.

_Fuck! You are an idiot!_

After that, there was not much to say. They were all guilty of helping a prisoner and the only way to stay alive was to fight and run. But... it was impossible. In a blink of an eye she saw many arrows flying in their direction.

_So this is the end. We are going to die helping Scoia'tael! What would our parents think?_

Absent-mindedly she moved her hands to cover her face and saw her sister, Idril, doing the same. And then, the miracle happened: magical barrier was created around them and the arrows just turned into silver dust all around them.

_Are we doing this? WOW! This is incredible!_

Everyone froze. This gave them the advantage and Ciri shouted:  
“Follow me!”  
So they ran through the scaffold, through the street and outside the town. From behind her, she heard voices screaming: eleven-witches! But she paid them no mind, as she pretended not to hear arrows still flying next to her head. If someone asked her later: how they had done it? She would answer sincerely: I have no idea... But they escaped from the small town into the forest. Everyone was almost unscratched and very much alive. Then, they whistled to their horses, which, thankfully, were nearby and rode away. Ciri took the prisoner on her horse and galloped next to her in silence.  
It was after a few hours when they stopped. Deoiridh jumped from her horse and headed to Gilbert. His face was tensed as he started to speak:  
“I know that I...” – but she stopped him with a fierce kiss.  
He hesitated for a long while, but then, reciprocated it passionately.  
“Are you both out of your minds?! You almost got us all killed! He is a criminal!” – she heard her sister shouting, but separated from Gilbert only to say:  
“Come with me” – and she took his hand to lead him deeper into the forest.

 

They were walking together for a while before she stopped to kiss him again. Then, she started to take off her clothes slowly, not breaking the kiss. But she felt him tense under her touch. She separated and looked him deep in the eyes. After a moment, she asked in disbelieve:  
“Are you... a virgin?”  
“I... yes” – he answered truthfully.  
“I... well... I'm sorry for...” – she continued with uncertainty.  
“No. Don't be I... I want you” – he replied with a small smile.  
She could tell that much by his dilated pupils and well... stretched pants. So she spoke no more, but resumed undressing. He followed shyly, sometimes looking at her in fear. When he was naked, she admired his body. He was her height and had a slender, nicely shaped figure. His face was adorned by short, dark brown hair. But it was his amber eyes, which enchanted her. He was handsome, maybe not as Aen Seidhe, but in more... rough manner. She approached him again and kissed him, taking his hand and pulling him on the top of her, while she dropped to lay down.  
His hands moved through her body shyly, afraid to touch her intimate parts. But it was exactly, what she wanted. What she needed. So with her experienced hand she manoeuvred his palm to her soft spot and showed him how to move. He trembled slightly at first, but obliged. Soon his tender caress made her moan, what gave him the courage to explore more. He pushed two of his fingers gently inside her, rubbing her clitoris with his thumb.  
She was wet and moaning softly, soon. She looked in his eyes and saw, what she wanted to see: adoration. So she took his hand off her and whispered:  
“Enter me...”  
He positioned himself above her, but hesitated. She smiled softly and moved him with her hand to her entrance, then she pushed his bottom gently with her heels. At once, she felt the sensation of being stretched too much, but still feeling immense pleasure from it. She never quite understood that feeling, but she didn't have time to ponder more on the matter. They were moving slowly and her hand went back down to pleasure herself. He was looking her in the eyes all the time - like he was trying to read her face, her mind. The moment her inner walls tighten at her peak he came, too. They both moaned loudly. He lowered his head on her shoulder and was breathing heavily in her ear. She smiled at the tickling sensation. Then, he whispered:  
“Thank you.”  
“Hmm... the pleasure was mine” – she said still a little bit dazed from her recent climax.  
She motioned him to move from her and so he did. But they laid down on their spot for a long time afterwards, hugging closely. After a while, he looked at her and began tracing the scar on her chest with his finger:  
“Your scar...”  
“A bruxa.”  
“What?”  
“A lower vampire... Never mind. It's a battle-scar.”  
“Did you fight with a vampire?”  
“Vampires... and we won” – Deoiridh grinned and saw the uncertainty on his face replaced by a smile, too.

Long minutes passed before she asked:  
“Why a man like you would...?”  
“I just... I've never been so sure before.”  
“Sure of what?”  
“What I want.”  
She smiled at him and pondered.

_I was never sure in my life, either... But... am I truly now? Not like him, that I know, still... I don't want him to leave._


	65. Daegan Saovine 1298

DAEGAN

 

Saovine 1298  
Tretogor  
Redania

The moment one of the girls disappeared with the dh'oine boy he knew – Gilbert, the other looked at him dangerously and approached him with one of her swords pointed at his heart. She stated coldly:  
“I hate you.”  
“No, you don't. You know nothing of me or hatred” – he replied calmly.  
“You are a Scoia'tael and your rescue endangered us all. It is enough for me.”  
“Then why did you rescue me?”  
“By accident.”  
“Then I was more than lucky to be rescued accidentally by such a fierce and breathtaking woman. Do you have more of such accidents in your mind?” – he asked smiling proudly, but playfully at her.  
She started to speak, but closed her mouth looking him in the eyes.

_Do I see what I think I see, luned? Of course, you already want me. Big, bad Scoia'tael is exactly, what you lust for. Well... I certainly wouldn't object._

“You like danger, don't you?” – he teased her further. – “Do you want more of it?”  
“I...” – she started with a playful smile, but was interrupted by the raven-hair boy:  
“Come, Tylluan. Let Ciri talk to him” – she looked at the younger Seidhe and followed him, but glimpsed back at Daegan.

_Poor green boy. You have no idea how to play with such a force of nature. I, on the other hand..._

But his thoughts were interrupted by the white-haired woman:  
“What's your name?”  
“Daegan, but my men call me Coram.”  
“A lion... hmm... Gilbert said, that you are the last Scoia'tael commander, is that true?”  
“Yes.”  
“Is it why they wanted to execute you today?”  
“Yes.”  
“Then you are more lucky than wise.”  
“I know.”  
“What are we to do with you now?” – she asked after a while, but her voice was warmer than before.  
“My men will probably be far West or North by now.”  
“Did they leave you?”  
“No” – he replied harshly. – “We were trapped and they were ordered to save their lives.”  
“As much as I know about the Scoia'tael, is that you never ever let yourselves to be taken alive. What happened?”  
“I needed to give them time to run away” – he answered in a strong voice.  
“You are...” – she started, blinked a few times, but continued in a different manner: – “Are you hurt?”  
“No, I just need a bath and some new clothes.”  
“We have spare” – she said and was pondering for a long time before she added: – “We are travelling in the direction of Densele. You can stay, if you want. Oh... my name is Ciri.”

After saying that, she retreated not looking at him, as if she was afraid to change her mind. He was observing her for a long while.

_You lived through shitty things, too... I could see it in your eyes: your age, your memories, your fear and anger. All the things I know so well myself..._

 

The initial anger of his new travelling companions wore off and they all got used to each other's company. Even if it didn't seem like it, he respected them all and was extremely gratefully. Still, it was the next day - by the dinner - when Cidran attacked him:  
“How can you live like that?”  
“Like what?” – Daegan inquired calmly.  
“With no home, no bed, no food” – the jealous green boy replied.  
“There are more important things than dinner, boy.”  
“Like what?”  
“Freedom. Dignity. Identity. Things your parents haven't taught you or you've been a shitty student.”  
“How dare you?” – Caelebran joined the conversation.  
“I dare, because I fight for all of us, even for you: city Seidhe living your comfortable lives” – he continued, but was getting angrier by the minute.  
“You are a criminal. A murderer as were they...” – Cidran stated.  
“How dare YOU, boy? The commanders of old died for the Aen Seidhe in the Realms. They gave up their lives, so that the ones like you can live in peace. You know nothing, boy. And be careful what you'll say next, because right now, you act like a traitor of your own race...” – he snarled at the younger Seidhe.  
“Still...” – Cidran started, but was interrupted by Idril:  
“We can argue like that as long as we want. Daegan, you told me in the morning, that much of what you know about the past is only a rumour - not many people want to speak about the old times. We don't know more, either. We need to get some real knowledge.”  
“How?” – Daegan asked with curiosity.  
“In the Royal Archives, we are two days from Tretogor” – she stated with a grin.

 

To everyone's surprise, breaking into the Royal Archives was a piece of lembas. Once in, they decided to split. He went with Cirilla to the criminal records, looking for any information on Fen, her Riders and Scoia'tael, especially – his father. Girls went to the civil records - to find out if any of the Riders may still be alive. The three boys went to military records - to look for any association of the Riders with armies of the Northern Realms or anything interesting at all. These were all possible leads they came up with during their journey to Tretogor.  
Cirilla went to another bookshelf, but he got at once to Scoia'tael records and started to look up for what he came here for in the first place. Unlike the others, for him this quest was personal. His mother has never spoken much about his father, despite saying, that she loved him more than she should have had.

_Well... not much of information, is it?_

He found, what he was looking for after a while. The whole box of files.

_Everything on my father and his commando! Wow! So the rumours I've heard were true. My father was a commander and later an officer of the Vrihedd Brigade._

The records included murder, mass murder, theft, attacking the military transports and many, many more. Some really nasty things, he admitted that. There was also some personal information. Especially one page - signed by E. - was interesting. His father was a close friend of Isengrim Faoiltiarna and Iorveth. This person described him as devoted to his men and friends, calm and decisive. As a dangerous, but not a cruel person, pointing out things his commando did in the past, including saving the life of a dh'oine: Seamus McDonnegan.

_Isn't it Gilbert's uncle? We must get to him as well, then._

Just when he was reading that, he heard Cirilla approaching him. He didn't react at first, but noticed, that she looked at the box and files he had in his hands. Then, she turned her eyes to his face. He couldn't tell, what she had seen, that made her do what she did next. She came closer and dropped on her knees in front of him. He registered the whole action only when she started to take off his trousers and pants. When she took him into her mouth, the sensation caused him to drop the files he was reading.

_Wh... this is unexpected._

He was in prison for much too long and he felt himself on the edge incredibly quickly. He started to speak, panting heavily:  
“Ciri... I...”  
But she, as if reading his mind, only tightened her grip on his hips and accelerated her movements. Needless to say, he came shortly after. When he heard her swallowing, his thoughts came back to reality. He looked down at her to meet two breathtaking green eyes. She was smiling wickedly at him. He extended his hand to her and she took it quickly. When she was up, he kissed her, pushing her back on the bookshelf. He could still taste himself on her tongue and felt, that he is more than ready for more. When they separated, he lifted her up by the bottom and took few steps to the nearest table. When she was sitting on its edge he only said:  
“Turn around.”  
This led to another wicked smile on her face and she did it, eagerly. When she was bent on the table he took off her trousers and pants in one movement and travelled slowly to her soft spot with one hand. After just a few movements of his fingers, she was wet. He entered her at once, causing her to moan into a palm of her hand.

_En'ca minne... You're used to sex in strange circumstances..._

His thoughts became blurred quickly. All that he felt and thought about were tightening inner walls of the woman spread so beautifully in front of him. He wasn't sure why, but he bent to her a little just to feel more of her body on his skin. Soon, she was twitching violently under his touch. He realised, that he is close too, so with the last effort of his mind he whispered:  
“Do you want me to...?”  
“No. Don't worry” – she interrupted him, still gasping.  
So he came inside her, fighting a moan of his own. Afterwards, they rested entangled for a while. Then, she pushed him gently and gathered herself. He followed, but to his utter surprise, she didn't even spare him a glance before she walked away to the files she was reading.

_What the fuck?_

He tried to focus on his father's files again, but he couldn't. So, with papers still in his hands, he went to her and stood in front of her. At first, she didn't notice him. But after a while, she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  
“Don't you want to talk about it?” – he started.  
“What would you want to discuss?” – she asked mockingly.  
“Why?”  
“You needed it and I felt like it. I tend to do the things I want, so I did. Does my answer satisfy your... what really? Curiosity? Insecurity?” – she replied.  
“Insecurity? It's really rich” – he chuckled mockingly. – “I just...” – he trailed off. This conversation didn't go as he planned.  
“If you want another round I am open to suggestions, but I'm not the kind of woman to overthink things as simple as sex.”  
He looked at her for a long while. She was sitting leisurely behind table with files all around her.

_Is it possible, that it meant more for me than it did for her? What is wrong with me? Her? You are not getting away so easily, Cirilla..._

A wicked grin crept on his face when he pushed her chair away from the table and knelt in front of her. After a quick evaluation of their surroundings and situation, he decided to implement his idea. He pulled her closer to him, to the edge of her chair, then he removed her trousers and pants again, but didn't take them off. With her thighs only slightly spread, he pleasured her with his fingers and tongue, until she moaned a little bit too loud, tensed few times and relaxed every muscle in the end. This time he could watch her, her focused face and dazed look when she came were...

_Enchanting... Did I really use that word in my mind? I'm losing it..._

They both gathered themselves swiftly. To his another surprise, this time, she looked at him with an almost soft smile. Then, she came back to the work at hand and so did he.

When they left and hid back in the forest, Ciri stated slowly:  
“There is nothing on the Riders in the Archives. Nothing on Fen, Cerbin... As if they never existed.”  
“So what?” – Deoiridh asked.  
“They were spies” – Daegan whispered in disbelief.  
“Yes. And now her story makes even more sense: divide and conquer...” – Idril said pondering.  
“What do you mean?” – Cidran inquired.  
“She manipulated them, deceived them all, she became the reason for quarrel and they all thought more about their feelings for her than...”  
“About her real motives” – Daegan finished.  
“Genius” – Caelebran stated.  
“Fucking dh'oine” – Daegan corrected him. – “And we all thought...”  
“That she was some kind of hero? Knight-errant helping out of the goodness of her heart?” – Ciri mocked him. – “Sorry to be the one to crush your image of the world and your hope... but there is and never have been much hope for your cause.”  
He looked coldly at her, but spoke nothing. He only asked himself:

_Is she right?_


	66. Vernon Saovine 1298

VERNON

 

Saovine 1298  
the mansion near Acorn Bay  
Temeria

The retirement was mostly boring. Some time ago, he decided to move to a small mansion near Acorn Bay. He never married, but lived quietly and calmly with small staff his pension allowed him to afford. He ended his service just two years ago, after receiving almost every order you can think of. Last ten years, he spent mostly behind the desk, but still his experience and insight proved to be useful. One day, he was too tired to go to his small office and he decided, that it's time to leave. Obviously, he hated his decision a month later, but... there was no coming back.  
In his mansion he read, hunted, trained to keep the shape. For a long time various soldiers and Blue Stripes were coming to see him, to get some advice, to speak about the old times. But now, he was mostly alone. One day in the late autumn another retired officer came to him:  
“Vernon!”  
“Ulfric!”  
They were talking for a long time about the times of their service. To his surprise, the other man asked suddenly:  
“Have you heard what happened last month in Drakenborg?”  
“No, I had no news lately.”  
“They were to hang Daegan.”  
“At last... the last commander. It was high time...”  
“But he was rescued, miraculously. If I didn't know, that it was you, who reported Fen's death twenty-five years ago - I would say, that it was her.”  
“What? Yeah... she is probably only bones by now. But... how he escaped?”  
“Men are talking about some elven-witches, Scoia'tael, humans allied with them. Crazy stuff...”  
“Interesting” – Vernon said. – “And what now? Who is hunting them?”  
“Redanians, obviously. But they paid the Crimson Company, as well. The Vampire is out there for blood. They are all wanted rather dead than alive” – the other man chuckled.

After his friend left, he was deep in thoughts. But it didn't take him long to make up his mind. He went to his storage, and took the travelling attire, his longsword and a cross-bow. He told his staff, that he was called to Tretogor and ventured North.

_There is only one place, where I can start._

He hasn't smiled so widely in many years and even started to hum on his way.


	67. Keira Blathe 1297

KEIRA

 

Blathe 1297  
early morning  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

They decided to cross both rivers, Lumë-me-Shkëlqim, the Shiny River and Lumë-i-Shpejtë, the Swift River near their springs – on the foothills of Mallet-e-Diellit, the Mountains of the Sun. The view of the sun rising from the Deti-i-Safir, the Sapphire Sea was indeed amazing. It was true, what they've heard – this was a land of the rising sun. The light was changing from crimson red to bright gold gradually. It wasn't the fastest road to their destination, but they were told to take some time to admire the view and she was more than eager to do it. Unlike some...  
“Now, happy? Well... I guess it's nice, but still, it took us two more days to travel this way and right now, I'm hungry” – Lambert said irritated, as always...  
“Hush, hush, my dear... we are getting there” – she calmed him down.  
“Have you seen those ships? Wow!” – Lambert pointed to the harbour, now glistering in the golden light of the sun.

She agreed with him. At least five galleons and ten sloops - all made of extremely bright, almost beige wood, probably pine-tree wood - were anchored at four long quays. Their long masts and lines were moving rhythmically with waves and the wind. The city was located close to te harbor. They've heard, that they started almost thirty years ago with only tents above their heads. Well... now it was almost impossible to believe that tale.  
Nearest to the harbour - stood a lantern. To the West, more than a hundred small white and beige stone buildings stood neatly. They were all topped with roofs made of red tiles. But, there were more colours visible in the city: on doors and window frames, which were painted green, blue, violet and in many different shades. In the centre, there was a market-square, which was easy to spot even from a distance - with an amphitheatre and two other buildings made just of great pillars and roofs, looking like ancient temples. The gateways were topped with arcs and their lines created a network, which reminded her of lace. There were no city walls, but on the outskirts - in equal distances - were situated towers for sentinels. More to the West, there was a great meadow. But in some distance were located fields, orchards and impressive vineyard. She saw herds of sheep, horses and goats. In the middle of this great farm, a small village was situated with similar houses to the ones in the city. The view was truly idyllic.  
“Since when do Aen Seidhe farm? Or herd sheep?” – Lambert asked while they were walking down from the foothills to the valley.  
“They don't... I cannot explain it, my dear” – she answered truthfully.  
“Wow... this is something new.”  
“Shut up.”

Upon hearing that – Lambert chuckled. They went on. They walked in silence through the pine-forest in the direction of the city. The directions, that they were given, were very specific. Close to the harbour - just underneath the mountains - there was to be a white house with deep-blue door and window-frames. In its garden, there would be a wooden, richly ornamented bench and a wooden, laced arbour, covered in vine. Next to the house, there were two others: a beige one, with deep-brown door and window-frames and another white, bigger, with violet ornaments.  
They found the house with no difficulty. As they got to the door, the window - located maybe two meters from them - was slightly opened. Just when she was to knock, they both heard a loud, female moan. Keira froze, listening. Soon, the sound was followed by another and the next.

_Someone is quite busy inside and judging by the sound of it, quite satisfied, too._

“Aen Seidhe and sex. Well... I guess we have a choice: either we interrupt them and make them angry or we sit, admire the sounds and wait” – Lambert commented again.  
“Admire the sounds?” – Keira asked faking jealousy.  
“No one makes sounds like you do, my love. But this Seidhe is good, too” – he answered with a playful smirk and sat on the bench.  
“She is blond or dark? How would you bet?” – Keira asked sitting on the bench next to him and smirking, too.  
“I would say” – he listened some more – “blond.”  
Their conversation was interrupted by a group of children running in the direction of the centre of the city. Keira watched them in a deep shock.

_Five little Aen Seidhe. All from five to eight. How?_

“Since when Aen Seidhe have children?” – Lambert asked again exactly the same question, which she was thinking about.  
“Well... they obviously do, but... It's truly interesting.”

They were sitting in silence for a while. She was just taking in the surroundings. Then, she realised, that on all of the houses - there were hanging gardens. Literally, the plants looked as if they were planted on their walls. She got up to inspect the one on the house nearest to them – the other white. As she got closer, she saw, that the long pots were hanged in the 45 degrees angle on the stairs-like construction. She smelled basil, oregano and lovage. Then, she heard Lambert's voice:  
“Someone is coming from the direction of the forest to the South-West.”  
She looked in the direction and indeed saw a figure of a male Seidhe. He was wearing a white linen shirt and brown trousers with light shoes on his feet. He looked as he was thirty, but as a Seidhe, he could be ninety, as well. She couldn't tell. It was as she saw the crimson bandanna on his head and the right side of his face when she realised, who he may be. She got closer to Lambert, who has been already standing.

_A dead man walking... How is it possible?_

The Seidhe approached them with a stern expression on his face. When he got closer, he stated calmly:  
“If I haven't seen your swords, scars and medallion we would talk differently. But I can see you are a vatt'ghern from the School of the Wolf. There are not many of you anymore and I know Gwynbleidd, so you are either Eskel or Lambert. If I were to guess... I would say, that you are the latter."  
“Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you. I will make a guess of my own: you are Iorveth, right?”  
“I am. But I don't use this name anymore. Call me Crevan.”  
“Interesting” – Keira said.  
“And you are?” – Iorveth/Crevan inquired.  
“Keira Metz.”  
“Ah, the famous daerienn. Enchanté.”  
“Likewise” – she replied looking at him.  
His face was scarred, but still... He was incredibly handsome, with raven-black hair escaping from under the bandanna. And there was the tattoo, emerging from his almost half-unbuttoned shirt, which made her lick her lips. She realised, that she is staring and quickly looked at irritated Lambert. Just then, the door behind them opened and they turned around. They saw a woman with her hand still on the handle and a tall man holding her close and kissing her passionately, while they emerged from the house. It took them a while to realise, that someone is watching and they separated.  
He had long, dissolved, dark-brown hair with delicate waves, which was gently moving in the breeze. His eyes were almost black and she noticed strong jaw-bones. His shirt was crimson red and he was wearing black trousers. He was extremely handsome, too. To her surprise, he had no scar, but she noticed a necklace with a crimson jasper on his neck.

_Are you...? Are you Him?_

Then she looked at the woman at his side and gasped.


	68. Lambert Blathe 1297

LAMBERT

 

Blathe 1297  
late morning  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

He was staring at the woman standing in front of him. She was in her late thirties, her auburn hair was cut short, but still feminine. As for living in this sunny place, her complexion was quite pale. She was wearing a light blue shirt and graphite trousers. He saw her raised eyebrows and piercing grey-blue eyes. Her body was... well...

_Nicely-shaped. Let's leave it like that. But this hips! She is no Seidhe..._

“You are dead” – this thought escaped his mouth.  
“Thank you” – she replied mockingly – “we all are. You must be Lambert and you” – she motioned to Keira – “Keira Metz. It's a pleasure to meet you, too.”  
He was still dumbfounded when he heard Keira asking in amazement:  
“Are you Fen?!”  
“Well... my name is Lyanna and address me like that, please. But you aren't wrong.”  
“But if you are her, how can you look as if you were thirty-something? You must be at least fifty-something years old” – Keira continued not so politely.  
“Wow. Nice of you to point out. Well, I'm an inh'eid with a magical necklace. I can look as I please” – Lyanna chuckled.  
“And you are Isengrim Faoiltiarna” – Keira stated matter-of-factly, looking at the Seidhe standing next to Lyanna, but was still in a shock.  
“Here, you can call me Blaid” – the Seidhe replied calmly.

Keira and Lambert became silent. It was Iorveth/Crevan, who asked:  
“What can we do for you? You came a very long way from the Realms and I guess - not just to be surprised.”  
“We...” – Keira started – “were looking for... hidden Scoia'tael” – she replied slowly.  
“And why pray tell me?” – the Seidhe continued.  
“Geralt is missing” – Lambert joined the conversation. – “We...” – he wanted to continue, but was interrupted by Fen/Lyanna:  
“I know him and I've heard many things about Geralt of Rivia and as you know, even better than I do, he is not a man to be lost.”  
“He didn't come for the last winter to Corvo Bianco. No one saw him since Feainn” – Keira stated.  
“He is a witcher on the path. Is it strange?” – Fen continued inquiring.  
“Not lately. He has a home and a vineyard. He is a domesticated man now and has been for two decades” – Lambert said. – “He went to meet with Yennefer, who was at the time in Dol Blathanna with Francesca Findabair, but left her after few days. When she came back in Velen, she was sure he would have been already home for the vintage. But he didn't come back. Still, she wasn't too worried until we, me and Keira, came in Yule and told her, that he wasn't in Kaer Morhen. Then, she and Cirilla started to worry.”  
“And you came here looking for him?” – it was Isengrim/Blaid, who asked. – “He has never been here. We barely know him. I saw him only once in my life and luckily for me, only from afar. He massacred almost my entire commando at Thanedd.”  
“Well...” – Lyanna started – “some of us know him a little bit better, me mienne” – she finished with a strange tune in her voice. He said nothing, but looked slightly irritated at her.  
“Yes and no” – Lambert continued. – “In Yule Avallac'h was at Corvo Bianco, too. He said, that Geralt may be in danger, that he saw him in the darkness...”  
“Avallac'h...” – Isengrim/Blaid started – “as in Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha, the Aen Saevherne?”  
“Yes. Him, with his charming personality, as always. He didn't say much, but Ciri decided she would go to Dol Blathanna and would try to find his trail and Avallac'h suggested, that we should come here, to Gwyncuan.”  
“And what for?” – Fen/Lyanna asked, but the answer was interrupted by an incoming woman.  
She had long, dark-blond hair and was wearing a green shirt and trousers. Her shirt was loose but still, ripe breasts were hard not to notice. She spoke, still walking towards them:  
“I see newcomers and I understand you have a fascinating conversation, but me mienne, did you find him?”  
“Fuck! You are right, Deith. We will come back to the subject, but I have more pressing matter at hand. Have you seen Angus?” – Iorveth/Crevan asked.  
“Well... we didn't leave the house before meeting you. And I can assure you, that he was not inside” – Isengrim/Blaid answered and grinned.  
“Thankfully” – Iorveth/Crevan stated coldly, but smirked, too.  
“Have you checked the ships and harbor?” – Fen/Lyanna asked.  
“Yes. And all his... friends” – the other woman replied. – “By the way, my name is Deith” – she said and extended her hand to him and Keira, who introduced themselves, too.  
“Are you... the Virgin of Aedrin?” – Keira inquired with a very surprised voice.  
“If I were I wouldn't been looking for my son, would I?” – Saskia/Deith stated with a wink. – “But I was, yes... a long time ago.”  
“Well... I may have one idea where to look for him. Follow me” – Fen/Lyanna stated and started to walk towards the centre of the city.

But they didn't get to the market square. Instead, they followed the Eastern part of the city and stopped abruptly in front of a beige house with a crimson red door.  
“No...” – Iorveth/Crevan and Saskia/Deith whispered in disbelief.  
But Fen/Lyanna paid them no mind, knocked on the door loudly and shouted in a strong, incredibly commanding voice:  
“Angus! This is your captain. We are sailing in five!” – then she turned around and walked back to them grinning and counting at loud:  
“Five... four... three... two...one” – then the door opened and a young Seidhe stood before them.  
He looked like a mess. He was still putting his shoes on and his shirt was wrongly buttoned. He had dishevelled raven-black hair and incredibly brown eyes in the colour of walnut wood.

_A spitting image of... Is it possible?_

“Since when you can look like that in the port?” – Lyanna motioned to the young Seidhe. At once, he turned around and tried to order himself. – “You must be kidding me now” – she continued with studied anger in her voice. – “For this lack of respect, you'll clean D'ardaigh and Carnation.”  
“But I haven't had my breakfast...” – the boy started, but was interrupted:  
“Do you think, that I care?”  
“No, Ma'am. Where are we going?” – Angus said hopefully.  
“No where. I lied. Your parents were looking for you and they are, as you can see, not too happy with you. So... go cleaning... chop-chop” – as Fen/Lyanna finished, the boy went quickly in the direction of the ships.  
Then, from the building, two more Seidhe emerged: a female and a male. Fen/Lyanna grinned and said:  
“Tyne and Ciaran... both” – she was laughing at loud by now and looking at the horror on Iorveth/Crevan's and Saskia/Deith's faces. – “Ceád'mil.”  
“You have a way with him, captain” – Tyne said smiling, but avoiding the boy's parents' eyes.  
“Oh... I'll pay for this lie, don't worry and mischief is his third speciality” –Fen/ Lyanna said.  
“I cannot believe that...” – stated Iorveth/Crevan, slowly.  
“What did you expect, fraere? He is your son” – Fen/Lyanna replied mockingly. – “Now, do you plan to come to breakfast?”

They all headed to the market square. In one of the temple-like buildings, some Seidhe were sitting, eating and conversing. When they came, they were greeted by all. But Fen/Lyanna led them to the table in the centre, where only three Seidhe were sitting. One of them with light brown hair fastened in a ponytail greeted them:  
“Ceád'mil. I wasn't aware, that we were to have guests.”  
“Neach” – Lyanna greeted him. – “Well... we weren't either, until we discovered them at our doorstep in the morning.”

_I bet, that he is the head of the community and she knows him well._

“You know them?”  
“We have mutual friends” – was her answer.  
“If this is the case... Please, sit down and join us” – the man called Neach motioned to the table.

He and Keira sat down and ate breakfast with the elves. The food was amazing, some things he had for the first time in his life. While eating, he looked around the hall they were sitting in. It was an open space with roof based on thick pillars. The ceiling was covered in frescos. Extraordinary ones, too... It was the illustration of hunting in the forest and the figures there looked as if they were truly moving, like they were alive on the stone... He looked at many Seidhe, who were sitting around them.

_No... Is it possible? Not all of them are Seidhe! There are some dh'oine, too. But they look exactly the same, sit together. Do I even see some dwarfs? Am I dreaming still?_


	69. Neilina Blathe 1297

NEILINA

 

Blathe 1297  
forenoon  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

“Tyron! Moran! Jacob! Stop that at once!” – she shouted at two boys and a girl, who were engraving something on the table with a sharp stone.  
“Yes Ma'am” – all replied ashamed and ran to the rest of the children.

_The rest of the children... I will be caring for the second generation of the children born here, in Gwyncuan, soon._

Their parents were working during the day and Neilina was watching over almost all of the kids here. And there was plenty of them.  
“Evellien! We are going to breakfast!” – she ordered and led the group to the market square.  
They were usually coming to breakfast late. Children were to eat at home something light in the morning, before coming to her. Then, in the main hall of the city, it was the time for adults to eat in silence or to debate about diverse matters without interference. Later, when most of the inhabitants were already working, she was taking the children for their second meal. In the case of lunch, it was reversed. They were coming two hours after noon, and their parents were eating a few hours later. Then, the children went or were taken home for the rest of the afternoon, the evening and the night. It was their little daily routine out here. And it changed seldom. After their previous lives, most of the inhabitants of Gwyncuan yearned for the stabilisation, so even the least important customs established here were cherished and observed.  
Today, the moment she led children to the hall, she knew, that something was different. At the main table, there were still many silhouettes sitting. She recognised Fen/Lyanna, Isengrim/Blaid, Saskia/Deith, Iorveth/Crevan and Coinneach. When she saw him, she smiled involuntarily... She remembered well as they met here, in the middle of the night, almost twenty years ago.

 

_Velen 1279_  
_Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)_

_They were all sitting together in the main hall. This year's vintage was truly impressive: they had a chance to have wine till the next year and everyone was celebrating. Galel and Ves were in the middle of the event. As the people responsible for all the harvests, they were the masters of their today's success. The funny thing about this still quite a young couple was that, while they were certainly happy, they were humble - careful not to overstep, not to appear arrogant. They knew the Aen Seidhe too well..._  
_Ves and Galel were presenting the grapes and the last of the last-year wine, stored for the occasion by Neach, was flowing from the barrels. Caelebran was looking after Cidran and Idril, his cousins. Maybe not by blood, but they all remained as one big family. She looked at Neach... he was carrying little Deoiridh and smiling fondly, but with some distant sorrow in his features. She knew why: the Seidhe yearned for the child of his own and even though he loved all of the children here and treated them as if they were his, this craving of his heart never ceased. And he was not getting younger..._  
_In the middle of the noise and celebrations, it was Crevan/Iorveth accompanied by Blaid/Isengrim, who raised his hands. Everybody went a little bit quieter, but far from silent. He started:_  
_“Well... evelienn! We, I mean me and Deith, we have a little announcement to make.”_  
_“Don't say, that we are going to be terrorised by yet another of your children, Crevan. Don't you think, that this little devil” – it was Caden who pointed at four-years-old Cidran – “is enough?” – all laughed at that, heartedly._  
_“I...” – Crevan/Iorveth paused – “know. And yes, Deith is expecting again” – he added with a wide grin._  
_There were many congratulations, loud applause, general commotion. This kind of news was always great for the community. By now, they got quite used to them. With part of their community made of dh'oine, there were already numerous children running around their growing city. But news of a new inh'eid or, even more, pure-blooded Aen Seidhe, were not so numerous. Though, as their heard, their achievements in the matter exceeded Dol Blathanna by far and it was always a reason for mocking and satisfaction._  
_“We should send to Enid yet another flower” – it was Neach, who brought up the subject, laughing a very dark laugh. Everyone followed._  
_The Scoia'tael still remembered how they were abandoned by their own kin and their attitude towards them, but especially Enid and Filavandrel, was not a friendly one. Neach's favourite saying came from the time, when the first pure-blooded Aen Seidhe - child of two Scoia'tael: Ciaran aep Dearbh and Malena - Oisina was born back in 1274 and never grew old. The saying was just a metaphor, obviously, for the Aen Seidhe from Dol Blathanna they were all dead..._  
_The celebrations were long. She decided to stay and help cleaning up, while Caelebran went to sleep to his aunt and uncle. It became strangely quiet. When everything was done, she sat on the edge of the table and looked at the sea. She was deep in her thoughts when she heard the voice:_  
_“The sun will rise, soon.”_  
_When she turned around she saw Neach, standing close to her. They were alone. She observed him closely. In many ways, they had so much in common. While many of their friends were having children now, her son was almost a young adolescent and she knew, that he would be a grown-up too soon. She was in a different place than many of them and she was alone. As was he. Since the day she's met him all those years ago she was interested, but knew, that after all the Isengrim-Fen affair, he probably wouldn't even think of her. Another woman too close to the younger Seidhe... But, it was a long time ago. She mustered her courage and said:_  
_“Yes, let's celebrate that” – looking at him with a playful smile._  
_He watched her for a long while, thinking. But he took a few steps to get to her. When he gently touched her cheek she already knew, that she couldn't control her desire for this man. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to his palm. Their first kiss was hungry and urgent. His hands moved swiftly in between her tights and she laid flat on the table. Probably the moment his fingers touched her intimate parts she had been wet. Either way, he was inside her very soon and they were moving together. Now, much slower, enjoying every minute of this chance meeting. When they came, panting loudly, the first rays of the sun were shining on her face. They were entangled like that for a while. Suddenly, he said with a wide smile on his face:_  
_“Feainnghath...You look now like a ray of sun yourself...”_  
_The name stuck to her for good, as did he._

 

She observed Vinarion, her second son, walking towards his father and sitting next to Neach at the main table. She took care for the rest of the children, sitting them and overlooking the preparations for breakfast. When everything was ready, she went to the main table and heard four small feet running in the same direction.  
“Aunt Lyanna! Aunt Lyanna!” – little Taeraya shouted.  
“Yes, little one?” – Fen/Lyanna asked turning around and smiling fondly at the Seidhe girl.  
“Angus told us this morning, that you'll show us what clitoris is! Show us, please!” – the girl exclaimed excitedly.  
Lyanna's face was precious. Her eyebrows were extremely high, expression became tensed and she stared at them. Then, she laughed hard an said to the people sitting with her at the table:  
“I told you. I knew, that he would make me pay.”  
Then, she turned back to six-years-old and seven-year-old behind her and stated:  
“Hmm... clitoris is a part of female body.”  
“Which part?” – the girl inquired. – “Show me!”  
Then everybody laughed. Fen/Lyanna hid her face behind both of her hands and was trying to focus: to come up with some answer, not too explicit but not a lie, too. It was their common policy towards children here.  
“It is intimate. It's the reason why we wear pants, my dear.”  
“Oh!” – Taeraya replied pensively.  
“You are still such a prude” – Toruviel/Wenci, girl's mother came to them with a grin. Fen/Lyanna made a face and said:  
“So, go on. Show us, Wen” – this was the Seidhe time to laugh and she said:  
“I'll explain more at home, Tae. Now, go to eat.”

When Neach saw Neilina watching all the scene, he motioned to her to come to him and sit. And as she did, he gently sneaked his hand around her waist and said:  
“Ma mienne, may I introduce Lambert and Keira Metz” – he motioned to the newcomers.  
“Enchanté” – she greeted both.  
“May I ask a question?” – it was the pale blond dh'oine, who asked. – “And hmm... could you ask your son to leave us for a moment?”  
“Of course” – she answered. – “Vinarion, go to sit with Niniel” – after she spoke, the boy nodded respectfully and left. Keira asked:  
“You are looking after the children here, right?”  
“Yes, I am.”  
“And, sorry for my bluntness, but I see Seidhe, dh'oine, dwarfs and probably some inh'eids. How does it work? I mean...”  
“We started from the very beginning with a different attitude. We are all newcomers here and we built Gwyncuan from scratch, together. Our children realise, that they are different, but the race is not an issue. No intolerance is shown here, so the children do not know it. They quarrel, mind you, but for different reasons: one is taller, one is prettier, one is smarter and so on... But it's not based on race. Their behaviours are a mimic of ours. And we had and still have our differences, we argue and we fight sometimes, even publicly. But we never ever bring race into it.”  
“But... how do you teach them about the history, then?” – Keira inquired further.  
“We tell them everything we know and we don't lie. We just work very hard on emphasis and narration” – Neilina answered with ease.  
“But, if they go anywhere else? They are not ready for any other life than this” – Lambert stated matter-of-factly.  
“When they are older, we warn them about different cultures and... customs” – Neilina continued. – “They know about problems in the Realms and Nilfgaard. But above all, we warn them about strangers and that life is different in the big world. That our community is small and we live extraordinary lives. We are no fools, Lambert.”  
“I understand.”  
“Let's go to speak more somewhere else” – Isengrim/Blaid stated. – “Children shall eat in peace.”  
They all agreed and went to the amphitheatre, leaving her with a noisy bunch of children.


	70. Coinneach Blathe 1297

COINNEACH

 

Blathe 1297  
noon  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

They all sat in the amphitheatre. It was a place of monthly gatherings of the community, but also the place of extraordinary gatherings, which took place when the most important decisions needed to be made quickly.  
He was watching the sun in its peak, shining in golden light on the mountains. The pines were humming softly in the background and he heard the sea. He had never had a love for the sea before, but here, with Lyanna's fascination with sailing, even he learned to appreciate the feeling of waves rocking the boat. Lyanna... Fen... sitting in the amphitheatre again, he remembered the trial from a quarter of a century ago.

 

_Yule 1272_  
_Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)_

_He was observing the scene with horror. Toruviel stood in the middle of the gathering, while the whole community was sitting on the ground in the circle around them. Fen was sitting close to him with an expressionless face. On the other side of the gathering - Isengrim, Iorveth, Neilina and the new girl, Saskia sat with fear displayed on their faces. They all knew how the scene in front of them may, probably will, end – with the execution of the person, they cared for so dearly. From behind him, emerged Caden and Easbeth and the rest of the Raiders. They were ready to join Fen, but she shook her head violently. They stood next to him and their faces were expressionless, as well._

_They suspected, that she would do it..._

_Toruviel stood in front of the girl with disbelieve in her eyes and she asked:_  
_“Is there any justification for your deeds?”_  
_“I was acting on orders. But it's not much of a justification, since I went to work for Foltest willingly and I chose to work for him, he wasn't even my king per se” – Fen answered coldly._  
_“Why did you do it? Why did you start to work for him?”_  
_“He promised me a better life than I could hope for at the time and revenge” – her answers were short and general._

_She doesn't care... She has no hope as to the outcome of this trial..._

_“Did you kill any Aen Seidhe? Any of us?”_  
_“Not directly, but you cannot be a spy and do no harm, though I tried.”_  
_“How did you first got us to trust you, luned?”_  
_“Triss Merigold sent me to Coinneach's commando to infiltrate them. It was known as a big and respected commando. We knew, that it was a good start.”_  
_His men started to hiss and his face fell considerably._

_But Fen continued:_  
_“When we got there, quite by accident, we were able to save them. It was a much better beginning that we had anticipated. Since then, our legend preceeded us. Later, we didn't need to convince anyone too much, that we are allies. And we were travelling and gathering information about commandos one by one” – she paused. – “You know... it's not the whole truth. Once, I sent the Blue Stripes to the commando, however we saved some of its members before the attack, taking them to scout. But the ones, who stayed... I am sorry for saying that, but they deserved what they got.”_  
_The dead silence fell on their gathering. Toruviel asked with anger:_  
_“How dare you?”_  
_“Oh... I dare, Toru, cause I know, that you thought so too, even if you never said it at loud. When we met them in 1266 they were already known as the Arsonists. But they did much, much more. And their activity didn't really help your cause, did it? The three women they kept as toys... It was so vile, that most of you have never even spoken about it, but maybe you should. I mean, Armoran's commando, obviously...”_  
_They all fell silent again. She was right. Neach couldn't even think of the things they had done, but no one spoke against it. No one judged them. No one even tried to stop them._

_But we should have had..._

_It was Toruviel, who broke the silence:_  
_“These women wanted to stay with them, they were just sex-hungry wenches.”_  
_“How dare you?!” – the other voice came from his left. It was a female voice, shaking with rage. He recognised her immediately: the new dh'oine girl, a former officer of the Blue Stripes: Ves. – “Those monsters burned my village, my family and friends. Then, they kept me tied up for weeks, taking turns...” – saying that, she was red. – “I was fifteen by then. After a time, I had no more power in me to fight and I stopped. They freed me and I was free physically, but it was never my choice. I was there against my will” – she said looking the Seidhe in the eyes. – “I remember you, Toruviel. I remember when you came to them and saw me, he told you that I moan beautifully and you laughed. You are a woman, but you never even asked me how I feel, though you saw me crying. I was just a dh'oine, a wet object for you as I was for them” – she spoke the last sentence with spite, but in a strong and calm voice again._  
_No one knew how to react to that. They were just sitting, observing the scene with horror on their faces, but Ves wasn't finished yet:_  
_“I remember the road from Dillingen to Drakenborg. I remember thinking, that most of you didn't deserve this fate and in the Ravine I was happy, genuinely. But... you allowed those monstrosities, as well” – this time, she looked at Coinneach. He could neither speak nor move. She was right. Then, Ves retreated back to where she was sitting with Galel._

_Fen watched her with sadness in her eyes and looked at Toruviel:_  
_“No. I do not regret it. They died much easier than they deserved to. And I can say it, Toruviel, because I was killing dh'oine for you. And I killed hundreds. Not because of their race, but because of what they were: sometimes monsters, sometimes just soldiers in your way and sometimes... they simply didn't deserve to die, but they must have had, so that you would be standing here, now” – Fen said angrily for the first time._  
_“What do you mean?” – it was Yeavinn, who came and stood next to Toruviel. She was still dumbfounded._  
_“Nothing” – Fen answered._  
_“OK” – he stated. – “As you wish... But tell me, why did you leave us two years ago?”_  
_“Loyalty.”_  
_“To whom?”_  
_“Foltest. The only man I actually pledged my loyalty to.”_  
_“Then we have our answer” – Toruviel spoke again, calmly._  
_“No! Fen stop that” – Iorveth got up and headed to the centre of the circle. – “Yes, I know, I have no right to speak and so on, but I don't care, fraeres” – he was speaking while approaching Yeavinn. – “Tell them about the list or I will” - he said to Fen._  
_“List?” – Yeavinn asked looking at Fen, but she gave no reply._  
_“OK” – Iorveth stated – “I will. She made a deal with Foltest to save us, officers of the Vrihedd and others. She went back to keep her part of the deal to assure, that no one will come here looking for us.”_

_Everyone was looking at each other and at Fen. But she spoke nothing. Then, it was the resigned voice of Isengrim, who broke the silence:_  
_“Why did you come back? You knew, what will happen. Why did you come back?”_  
_“I wanted to die in a place I called home and I was exiled from Redania, my family home, so...” – Fen said quietly. – “Is, one way or another, one of my enemies – and I have more of them than you – would find me and kill me. I wanted to have a choice as to that. And...” – she trailed off._  
_“And?” – Isengrim inquired further, approaching the standing group._  
_“Since I was a child I had this dream...” – she said in a distant voice not looking at anyone. – “No matter what I chose it always ended here...”_  
_“What do you...?” – Coinneach asked, standing up and approaching Fen, but didn't finish._  
_The great golden bird came from the mountains and burned abruptly just above their heads. In the process, it was falling down. In the centre of their gathering, there was now a pile of ashes and a small nestling looking curiously at Fen. They were dumbfounded, all but Fen, who said:_  
_“This is how it ends. Every single time.”_

_Another long silence fell on them. After a long while, Toruviel stated slowly:_  
_“You betrayed us and saved us. You lied to us and you helped us. You are one of us and that is the truth, even if I hate it right now. And we all are at fault for various reasons” – she added looking at Ves with regret. – “I cannot judge you, Fen” – and she went to sit down._  
_“Anyone has a different opinion?” – Yaevinn asked loudly._  
_No one had. Fen stood up, took the nestling into her hands and, not looking at anyone, went home._

 

Today, she was in the centre of their much smaller gathering, as well. It was her, who started:  
“If I remember correctly, we finished on the question: why do you need our help?”  
“Scoia'tael, but mostly Blaid and Crevan, are known to be the best trackers alive” – Keira answered.  
“It's very nice of you to say. Especially, having witchers at your side. I would never say, that our abilities exceed theirs” – Iorveth/Crevan replied.  
“I think, that it's about Dol Blathanna” – Isengrim/Blaid stated slowly – “you hope, that we can learn more there than you would.”  
“Yes” – Lambert said. – “And you can learn more from Aen Seidhe communities around it, for example in Pontar Valley. Maybe someone knows something.”  
“And why can't Yennefer ask Enid for favour?” – Fen/Lyanna inquired.  
“It doesn't work that way. She did and heard, that he left before her. But...” – Keira trailed off.  
“She suspects, that it may not be the whole truth” – Neach finished for her.  
“Yes” – Lambert agreed. – “Ciri is already on her way to try again, but I doubt, that even her Aen Seidhe friends can make Francesca talk. Tylluan and Cudyll are persuasive, but not enough, however, maybe with Filavandrel...”  
“What did you say?!” – Fen/Lyanna and Isengrim/Blaid whispered simultaneously and went pale.


	71. Isengrim Blathe 1297

ISENGRIM

 

Blathe 1297  
afternoon  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

They were all looking at the witcher with horror in their eyes. Lambert smirked and said:  
“I thought, that they are from here... For Aen Seidhe they were quite cheerful... Who are they?”  
“Our daughters” – Isengrim/Blaid stated in a dangerous voice, looking at Fen/Lyanna and Lambert stopped smiling.  
“What are they doing in the Realms?” – Keira asked.  
“They wanted to see the world” – Fen/Lyanna answered. – “We were... too protective. After what we lived through... we wanted them to have different lives. And they had happy, save, even spoiled childhoods. Last year in Lammas, they told us, that they want to go and live through some adventures, instead of living as boring lives as their parents...” – she trailed off.  
“Boring lives? C'mon. You killed a king, remember?” – he said looking at her and added looking at Blaid/Isengrim: – “And you fought in a war for almost a decade.”  
“Hush!” – Isengrim/Blaid barked – “we don't talk about it here.”  
“So... they don't know? Is this the reason why you use nicknames?” – Keira inquired.  
“Yes. They think, that we've spent all of our lives here” – Isengrim/Blaid replied.  
“What?!” – Lambert exclaimed – “you fucked up... seriously. You let them go, to the Realms, not telling them in what kind of danger they truly are?”  
“And who would know? Did you guess when you've met them? And us later?” – Fen/Lyanna asked in an angry voice.  
“No... But...”  
“And Cidran is on the road, too... With Caelebran. They weren't supposed to meet with the whole triangle thing still going on, but... He's an expert in getting into trouble” – Saskia/Deith stated with resignation.  
“And Cidran is your firstborn?” – Keira inquired looking at Saskia/Deith and Iorveth/Crevan.  
“Yes.”  
“Triangle thing?” – Lambert asked with a wide grin.  
“Well, Idril is...” – Fen/Lyanna started, but was interrupted by Keira:  
“I'm sorry to ask this, probably a stupid question, but as I remember Geralt talking about Vergen and Loc Muinne, I was under the impression, that you – Lyanna and you – Crevan... Well... You were there together. Close.”

 

The dead silence fell. His hold on Fen/Lyanna tightened. It was an impulse, but still.

_It was such a long time ago, but..._

“It was complicated” – Neach decided to break the silence.  
“Ah...” – Lambert answered knowingly and nodded, fighting a smirk coming to his face. – “And your daughter is...”  
“My daughter... yes” – Fen/Lyanna stated resignedly.

Eryr looked at him with resignation and he sighed. He remembered well their first night together after...

 

 _Yule 1272_  
_Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)_

_In a week after the trial they barely spoke. They didn't touch at all, nor did they sleep together. Since the morning she came back with... she came back, despite the moment he carried her home, they were distanced. Before the trial, she told him about the death of her parents and how she started to work for Foltest. They spoke about the list and Lacrosse. Then, she disappeared in Neilina's house and went straight to Coinneach. After the trial, she looked after her phoenix and collapsed on the bed. She was asleep quickly. But he couldn't sleep._

_She came back, was ready to die and confessed so easily to cheating on him with a man he considered his younger brother... He hoped, that she would come back, but this, well... not like that. He knew, that he loved this woman too much to let her go again, but they were a long way from being back together, not that he didn't yearn for her, but... The trace of another man on her body and this particular one, especially... was making him see red. He was mad with anger and that was the truth._

_During that week, she reacted as usually – by leaving him. She went back to building ships, she spent a lot of time with her Riders and with Coinneach. Obviously. He knew, that she told him much more than what was mentioned during the trial. He saw her crying in his arms. This was probably when he almost bit his tongue off..._  
_To tell the truth, he wasn't sure what he wanted from her now: to talk or to pretend as if nothing had happened. Iorveth was avoiding him, too. He was occupied with Saskia and, seemingly, their relationship was moving forward. His wasn't._  
_After a week, on the early evening, she came back home when he was sitting by the table. She sat down and started with difficulty, in a whisper:_  
_“I do not know how to talk to you.”_  
_“I'm not sure if talking is the best solution” – he replied resignedly._  
_“I know, that I crossed the line. It was what we were...” – she trailed off._  
_“We?! As you and Iorveth?! Please tell me, what you wanted to say. It started as a fascinating story” – he stated with anger._  
_She hid her face behind her hands and rested like that for a while before continuing:_  
_“What do you want me to say?”_  
_“Finish what you've started” – he demanded._  
_“We were crossing lines. We were hurting each other. We were definitely out of control. And we liked it. Here, I said it” – she finished, frustrated._  
_“But this is exactly what you like, isn't it?” – he shouted. – “The room where we first met, wasn't it all about it?”_  
_“Yes” – she replied calmly looking him in the eyes._  
_“So why did you let him go?” – his next question was asked in a sad voice. He didn't have the strength for this conversation._  
_“It was dysfunctional. And... I never wanted to let you go. I was just so lost and angry after Vengerberg, that I needed to let myself go. He is and always will be like a brother to me. But you... I...” – she trailed off again._  
_“What Eryr? What am I?”_  
_“My future. The only future I want to have” – she said slowly, looking down at her hands._  
_He closed his eyes and started to think hard. His anger was still clouding his mind but... She was here, with him. She came back to him... He still remembered, what he wanted to say to her when she comes back before she did. So he started:_  
_“No more, Eryr” – at that she looked at him with fear and sadness in her eyes – “no more running away from me. I mean it, ma mienne. I love you, but I'm tired of your revelations, of the problems you bring with you when you come back. I want to go where you go and I want you to go with me anywhere I go.”_

 _She was looking at him unsure, with a small smile on her lips, but her eyes were still fearful._  
_“I...” – she started to respond – “I agree.”_  
_When he heard that, he started to laugh so hard, that he almost fell from the chair. When he could breathe again, he asked:_  
_“You agree? Oh, luned... You have no idea, how depressingly irritating your answers are.”_  
_She said nothing, but smiled at him. And it was enough for now. He stood up and extended his hand, saying:_  
_“I will show you something.”_

 _They went to the spring of Abhainn Tapaidh. It was not far in the mountains and by the full moon the road was not hard to venture. The spring was falling in three breathtaking waterfalls to the pool below. They both stood there and watched it for a while._  
_“Amazing” – she said quietly._  
_“It is. And cold by this time of the year” – he added._  
_“Come” – she said, laughing and stripping on her way to the water._  
_“Did I mention that...?” – he started, but her scream stopped him. She jumped, obviously. Of course, he joined her, soon, regretting it the second his skin touched the water. But he jumped, nonetheless._

 _After this terribly chilly bath, they made love on the meadow around the pool. He kissed every inch of her body. He touched her possessively and hungrily. She knew it, but she only smiled. She made up her mind, too. Probably a long time ago. She was his and nothing could change it._  
_They were entangled closely. She was sitting on his lap with her feet crossed on his back. Their movements were slow and passionate. Still, when she came on him, her eyes were glittering with even colder light in this moonlight than ever before. Some things just never change..._

 

He heard Lyanna saying:  
“Blaid...”  
“I know, ma mienne. We must go” – he replied.  
“But we promised them... we gave them our word, that this will be their adventure” – she continued.  
“If anything happens to them we'll never forgive ourselves” – he stated.  
“But if they are not in danger they won't forgive us easily” – she replied. – “But you are right. We must go.”  
“We'll go with you” – Saskia/Deith stated at once. – “Cidran...”  
“And I'm sure, that Easbeth and Albert will follow” – Iorveth/Crevan ended the discussion.

_Here we are. Four parents standing in front of our worst nightmares. Whatever we do, it may turn out wrong. We will follow their tracks, while they are following Geralt of Rivia, so probably Lambert and Keira Metz will join us, too._

But what was on his mind first and foremost now - was Avallac'h. Why did he send them on this quest in the first place? Was it an accident or...?


	72. Saskia Blathe 1297

SASKIA

 

Blathe 1297  
evening  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

In the evening, the whole group went to the harbour. She saw Angus working near the mast of Lus na Gréine. The boy smiled to the group and saluted to his captain saying:  
“D'ardaigh and Carnation are cleaned. But when I got on Lus I realised, that forestay is tearing, so I changed it. And I'm checking other lines now.”  
“Good job, Angus” – Fen/Lyanna smiled at him. – “Show me” – she said and went in the direction of the boat. Just before getting on board she shouted: – “Getting on board.”  
“Clear” – was his reply.

Saskia/Deith realised, that they needed to tell her son something to explain why they need to go. But what? How? She looked at Iorveth/Crevan, whose face was as uncertain as hers. She stated:  
“We tell him the truth.”  
“Deith...” – Neach started to reply, but she interrupted him:  
“I'm leaving my son here, without his brother and parents. I won't lie to him, because he may get the idea to follow, too. We must, Neach. It's the only way to make him stay here, with you.”  
“I agree” – Blaid supported her.  
“OK. You're right, Deith” – Neach agreed, too. – “How do you want to do it?”  
“We sail. On a boat, he will take it better.” – she stated quickly. – “Lyanna!”  
“What?”  
“We need to sail.”  
“It's late” – Lyanna shouted back.  
“I know” – she replied in a determined voice.  
“OK, Deith. I'll make it happen. But only because you asked me, my dear. Go to D'ardaig, it's big enough for all of us.”

Angus was so excited to sail with his parents and later, than he was ever allowed after Cidran's accident with Lyanna's first and favourite boat – Dearmad-dom-ni, that he laughed all the time. When they were far from the coast, his mother started:  
“Angus, we need to tell you something.”  
“Oh no. Mum, I know that... sometimes I may do things... but I'm an adult now, you...” – her son defended himself.  
“It's not about this morning, Angus. However, I still don't approve, but you are right. Just remember that with rights go responsibilities” – Saskia/Deith interrupted.  
“I know, mum.”  
“But it's not what we wanted to discuss with you. It's about your brother and Caelebran” – she continued.  
“I hate it, that they left without me. Don't even mention him right now” – he got angry.  
“They are in danger, son. Real danger” – she continued.  
“Yeah... but they are travelling, meeting girls and doing things. It's terribly boring out here. I cannot imagine how you could live here all your lives...”  
“We didn't” – she answered.  
“I... wait, what?” – Angus asked in surprise.  
“Do you remember the stories about Scoia'tael, Vrihedd Brigade, Vergen, the fights for Free Dol Blathanna and Free Pontar Valley?”  
“Obviously! They are the best stories, just after the stories about the first sailors, who came to the Continent through time and space on White Ships... But why do you ask, mum? Did you know them, I mean... Isengrim Faoiltiarna! Or Iorveth! Or Coinneach Da Réo! Or the Riders and Fen! Or the Virgin of Aedrin! I mean any of them?! Are any of the legends you told us true?”  
“Those are no legends, Angus” – Iorveth half-answered his questions.  
“So you did know them! Wow!”  
“We are them, son” – Saskia stated matter-of-factly.  
“WHAT?! But they are all dead” – the boy was in a shock, probably the biggest in his life.  
“We are them. My name is Saskia, son, I was the Virgin of Aedrin before I've met your father” – she said and blushed.

_I'm a prude. Iorveth is right._

“But you... I mean... dad? We call you Crevan as... THE Woodland Fox? Are you him?”  
“My real name is Iorveth, yes” – his father answered chuckling.  
“And uncle Neach, is it the short version of...?” – Angus trailed off.  
“Yes, Coinneach.”  
“WOW! But if so, who...?” – the boy asked with widening eyes looking at Isengrim and Fen standing just behind him. – “Isengrim and Fen?! Can it be true?”  
“It can and it is, Angus” – Isengrim answered smiling widely.  
“But why Lyanna?”  
“It's my birth name: Lyanna Elia marques von Reichenbach” – Fen answered. – “But no one would recognise me under this name so I started to use it again.”  
“Whoa! Has Cidran heard this, before he left?” – Angus asked his father with a wicked smile.  
“No.”  
“Yes! He is missing this! Great!” – the boy exclaimed satisfied and the rest laughed at it. Then his expression changed. He thought hard before saying:  
“And you lied to us for all our lives... to protect us, didn't you? The less we knew the better. But if so, the stories you told us are only partially true. There must be a lot more to it, if you went through such a length to hide it and escaped as far as here...”  
“There is, Angus. We did things... and dh'oine would neither forget nor forgive. We were what we needed to be, still, we went far in this, Angus. Sometimes... too far” – Iorveth stated calmly, but there was sadness in his voice.

Angus was thinking again before he started:  
“And Cidran went to the West not knowing, that someone may realise who he is and try to get revenge... And cousins Idril and Deoiridh... You plan to follow them, don't you?”  
“Yes. News brought to us by Keira and Lambert are grievous. They may have gotten in a mess, which may lead to real danger” – Saskia said.  
“And you, uncle Neach. Are you going, too?”  
“No. I stay.”  
“So I'll stay with you.”  
When she heard her son saying that, she almost cried. This was so mature. She has never seen him so serious. Hopefully, he would stay true to his word.


	73. Iorveth Blathe 1297

IORVETH

 

Blathe 1297  
late evening  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

He was the first to get home and he was alone for a while. This day was much more than he bargained for this morning. Just to get home, to have a home to go back to, it was a dream - an impossible dream for such a long time... And now, he had it and her...  
He was watching the fresco of a dragon on their wall. It was the first painting she made him paint here, just before Cidran was born. It had been years since he had a brush and a palette in his hands. He thought, that he would never paint again, but... they were alive and waiting for a child to be born. All of the impossible things became possible because of two women.

_Saskia, sometimes I feel like the mere thought about her, about Fen, was a betrayal, even though it was such a long time ago. But I will always feel that way. And I will always think, that I don't deserve you. What have I given you? What life you have now? Is this what you wanted? Was it worth it? But the worst feeling is different - it's shame. Sometimes creeping slowly, sometimes coming fast like a lightning. Did I change you? Have you changed? You were an excellent leader of men, you could become someone great, even greater than what you had achieved before you followed me here. But... you stayed with us in our exile. I know, that we call it a paradise, but... it's only part of the truth. It's an asylum for refugees who needed to leave home, land, everything we held dear. And here we are thriving as the community, but still... Well... it doesn't matter anymore._

Just then, the door opened and Angus came in. He looked in the direction of the fresco and raised his eyebrows.

_We didn't tell him that... yet._

“It is your mother in her dragon form: Saesenthessis” – Iorveth stated calmly.  
“My... what? Mum is a dragon?”  
“Yes. A golden dragon. Well... you should probably say half-dragon, though. Her father is a dragon, but her mother was a dh'oine.”  
“Taking into consideration all of the revelations of today, I'm not even surprised. So this is how she looks like” – the boy stated pensively. – “Can she change at will?”  
“She could, but she would not. The last time she did... she killed her own people. After Phillipa Eilhart's spell, she cannot control herself in her dragon form any longer” – Iorveth stated in a resigned voice. –“ I saw her only twice as a dragon and this fresco doesn't give her justice” – a smile crept on his face.  
“But we are not... I mean me and Cidran...”  
“No, you didn't inherit it from her.”  
“You followed her into the battle in Vergen, didn't you?”  
“Yes.  
“And how was she, as a general?”  
“The best.”  
“And you served under uncle Bl... Isengrim, didn't you?”  
“Yes. At Meyena and Brenna. But she was better commander.”  
“Why?”  
“She fought for hope, Isengrim fought - like the rest of us - for revenge.”  
“For what?” – the boy inquired further.  
“For many things, which happened to our people in the Realms, son. We wanted to take revenge for hatred, for taking our lands and homes, for killing our brethren, raping our women, dispossessing us of everything, including our dignity.”  
“So it was worse than what you told us, wasn't it?”  
“Yes.”  
“So why? Why did you down-play it?”  
“Because hatred always goes two ways, son. Our community here is made of Aen Seidhe and dh'oine alike. Good people. Neither of them is responsible for our fate. And many dh'oine in the Realms are not, as well. It's better, that you've never truly learned how to hate” – Iorveth answered slowly. – “I am so proud, Angus, that you are who you are. That you are a better man and that you have much better life. I'm immensely proud of you and your brother” – he looked at his son and took a few steps to hug him tightly. When they separated, the boy looked at him and asked:  
“Is it a goodbye, dad?”  
“No, Angus. I hope not. But, we promised to be honest with you, so... it's dangerous for us to go back.”  
“But you can stay, can't you? It's mostly about my cousins, either way. Aunt and uncle can find them and Cidran with Caelebran on their own.”  
“They could. But one of them was always with me and then, with me and your mother. They didn't leave us alone.”  
“I understand” – the boy said with a serious expression.  
“And remember: no one can know the truth. It's your secret to keep now.”  
“I know and I will. But one day, you must tell the rest...”  
“I think so, but not yet.”

They were standing together in silence, still watching the painting. Then, Saskia came in and stared at them curiously. Angus smiled and said:  
“I'm going now. To my place, don't worry” – he added. – “Night! I see you in the morning.”  
And he was gone. Saskia came to Iorveth and hugged him. They rested like that for a long time. He felt her elevated heartbeat: she was afraid, too. She knew the danger as well as he did. When she looked him in the eye, she only said:  
“Come, let's make love, while we still have the bed.”  
They both chuckled and headed to the bedroom, stripping on their way.

_You are less prude than you were. That's certain, ma mienne._


	74. Fen Blathe 1297

FEN

 

Blathe 1297  
the next morning  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

She remembered delivering both of her daughters. Rather... half-remembered. She passed out more than once during both experiences. But she remembered, what happened before and after. They say, that after the first it gets easier. It may be true, however, it depends on what you call easy. Getting your body almost ripped apart is not easy. It all comes down to the simple question you ask yourself after: was it worth it? And she was incredibly thankful, that her answer would always be: yes. Yes, it was.

 

_Blathe 1275_  
_Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)_

_She felt contractions in the evening. The first thought on her mind was: why the fuck had I met with Triss Merigold two years ago to lift that fucking spell. It was the worst decision in my life... She was raging with anger from the pain. The phrase, which was escaping her mouth all the time was:_  
_“Fuck! Why did I do it? Why the fuck did I get pregnant? Stupid, stupid idiot.”_  
_“Ma mienne...” – Isengrim tried._  
_“Fuck off! You are responsible for this, too. Shut up! Make yourself useful and go to get Deith, Wenci, Ysmen and Ves. Here, I have no use for you at all” – she was sweet and nice as ever._  
_He obliged quickly. One thing he understood by now, is that the will of his woman, especially while she was pregnant and angry most of the time - was a law to be abided at once._  
_But in the evening the contractions were still too rare and too weak. All night she was walking around their house, while her female friends were preparing clean sheets and water. Ah... Isengrim, well... he wasn't there:_  
_“How do you feel?” – he made a mistake of asking the stupidest question of all._  
_“Is... go to Iorveth and get out of my sight. Go far and for long. I don't want to see your face until it will be over or I may actually kill you and Coinneach will be very upset. If you stay here, our child will be an orphan and I don't wish for that to happen. Get lost. Now.”_

_She knew, that he was there with Neilina during delivering Caelebran, but she wanted to hear none of that. It was all sweet, but the mere thought of him right now was making her see red and shout. He wasn't happy but he obliged and disappeared. In some strange way, the moment he disappeared and she thought about the child - her child making its way to this world – the anger turned into a determination._

_We can do it. Together, my little bird. My daughter, it's me and you against the world, since the very beginning._

_The child was born twelve hours later in the late morning. She saw the girl, heard some voices, but was on the edge of fading. When the door opened and Isengrim got in, Ves handed him the little bundle and the look on his face... Well, she would never forget that. But it was the moment he came with the girl in his arms - with big baby-blue eyes and quite long, curly chestnut hair - when she decided: it was worth it, and she passed out._

 

But the delivery is just the beginning of a long, challenging road. Looking back, the hardest part is a constant worry. When the child gets ill – you worry. When it is unhappy – you worry. When it gets lost – you almost vomit from worry. But the worst of all - is the worry for their future. She lost her parents early and the thought of leaving her daughters alone was her constant companion during their childhood and adolescence. And she was not getting younger. How to protect and look after your children while teaching them independence and responsibility at the same time? This is the biggest mystery of having children she could think of.  
Both girls were demanding children, but in different ways. The firstborn, Idril, was principled and determined. When she made her mind - nothing could change it. She was daring and well... passionate, but she could be cold and ruthless, too. Deoiridh was cheerful and sweet, it was hard not to like her. She was the risky type, too and she never truly connected to people, always a little bit of a mystery. And she tend to run away from problems.  
But truly, neither caused any problems. Well, despite the time, when Idril was sixteen and her parents caught her in bed with Caelebran... Isengrim was furious at both of them, but mostly at the poor boy. When they've heard, that it may never happen again, Idril went on the marathon of lovers. It ended in a huge fight, which included questions about Caelebran's father of all the things. How did it happen? It's truly hard to say. Either way, in the end, Isengrim gave up. And Idril went back to her normal, passionate Aen Seidhe self, but within some limits (including, to the best of her knowledge, not sleeping with Caelebran). As to Deoiridh, when she was fifteen, it was her mother, who specifically banned her from going to the celebrations with her friends. She reacted quite differently – she ran away. She was missing for three days. When she came back, she demanded that she would go where she wanted. But the ban was not lifted and the girl was under constant watch for a few weeks. She was screaming and cursing at her mother for another half a year. She was allowed to go to the next event. Well... this policy worked, as well.  
And now both of them were gods know where. And their mother was packing.

_I hate packing. I absolutely despise it._

Soon, they were ready and packed. She went with Isengrim to the closet, where their weapons were hidden. They taught their daughters how to fight and how to shoot. They taught them how to survive and how to hunt. They taught them everything they knew and the girls were ready to be on the road, of that she was certain. But Fen and Isengrim never used their old weapons nor did they tell them how to survive as their daughters. Who is a friend and how many enemies are out there...

_We fucked up... Lambert was right._

They were putting on the travelling attire and weapons in silence, both deep in their memories. But it was outside, where they unsheathed their swords. Despite not using them, both kept them in a perfect shape – just for the case like that and they looked exactly as they did twenty-five years ago.

_So we are going back on the path... Sometimes, just sometimes... I've missed it._

He looked at her and she knew, that probably less frequently, but he did, too. She approached him and kissed him passionately. Even this simple gesture - something they've done a dozen times every day - felt differently. When they were living in the Realms - it was a shitty life, but they were still young, much younger than now and they missed it even more...  
Then, they mounted their horses and rode to the outskirts of the city. The rest of their travelling party has been already waiting for them with Coinneach and Angus. When they came closer, it was Lambert who stated:  
“Well, now I understand how Dol Blathanna and Pontar Valley were freed. Just a glimpse at the six of you is enough to piss yourself.”  
No one laughed. It was true and they were just getting started. But it was the admiration displayed on Angus' face, what made her smile. He had a lot to process, but he believed, that it is worth it.  
“Is that...?” – Keira pointed out to the sky. It was the phoenix, circling above their heads high up in the sky.  
“Ngobaith” – Fen answered. But didn't continue.

_Watch over them, while we're gone..._


	75. Albert Lammas 1297

ALBERT

 

Lammas 1297  
the cottage near Vengerberg  
Aedrin

He was watching Fen while they all waited near the famous cottage for Lambert to come back with Peter, the old friend to Scoia'tael. If he was still alive... They were hoping to find out any news about the whereabouts of the children they were looking for, but still, they needed to be extra careful. Neither of them was truly allowed to be there, well... not that it was ever a problem.

 

_Yule 1265_  
_forests near Oxenfurt_  
_Redania_

_At the time, he was travelling with a group of his 'friends': thieves, bandits, rapists and small criminals. They made a camp near Oxenfurt and were planning a break into one of the shops there. He was a guard that night. About midnight, he heard light footsteps and saw a woman. She was quite tall, slender and she had a beautiful face. When she came closer to the light of the fire, he saw ripe curves of her body and elegant features. She was attractive, more than that, she was desirable. It took him a while to gather his thoughts._

_We can rape her... but..._

_She wasn't carring any weapons, but there was no fear on her face, either. When she realised, that he is watching her, she stopped. He made his decision within a second, but to tell the truth, he didn't know why he said:_  
_“Run away. Now. I'm in no mood to watch, what will happen to you here.”_  
_“Only to watch?” – she inquired._  
_“Are you crazy? Go away, now.”_  
_But then, out of no where, arrows flew and a man got to him with a dagger, which was soon on his throat. The woman said:_  
_“Spare this one. I want to talk to him later” – after saying these words, she moved forward to the camp._  
_“What's your name?” – the man, who was holding him, asked._  
_“Albert” – he answered quickly._  
_“Listen, Albert, don't move. You've heard the order, but still if you move - I can slit your throat.”_

_So he didn't move. They were sitting like that for a long while before she came back:_  
_“His name is Albert” – the man said._  
_“Why did you tell me to run, Albert?” – she inquired._  
_“I thought, that you are alone and that they would hurt you.”_  
_“A bandit with a conscious or with a soft spot for a woman?” – she inquired further._  
_“Both” – he answered truthfully._  
_“Why did you become a bandit in the first place?” – she asked._  
_“I had no where to go and no trade. My father was a drunk and he... either way, we didn't have food I...” – he trailed off a few times while telling his story._  
_When he was saying that, she crouched in front of him and looked him deep in the eyes. Then, she stood up and ordered:_  
_“Take off his shirt.”_  
_“Wh...?!” – he tried to protest, but there was no point. Soon, he was undressed._  
_She inspected carefully his scars from belt, poker, shovel, knife... He looked down on the ground. This experience was more humiliating than receiving his scars in the first place. When she spoke again, her voice was different, sad and warm:_  
_“Let him go and allow him to dress up” – she ordered. – “I am sorry, Albert. But I guess you understand, that anyone can tell a sad story. Your scars told me much more and I believe them. It will never happen again, I give you my word. You are free to go wherever you like.”_  
_When he was dressed and stood up, he looked at her and her men again. He was pondering long before he stated:_  
_“I have no where to go and you just killed my friends.”_  
_“Were they your friends?” – the man, who was holding him before, asked._  
_“Well... no, but we... It's beyond my point. My point is: I have no where to go.”_  
_“Do you want to ride with us?” – the woman offered slowly._  
_“Where to?”_  
_“Here and there... But you will want for nothing and I give you my word, that I'll never ask you to do anything you wouldn't want to do. There is one rule and one only: I respect my men and my men respect me. You must follow my every order when we fight, but when we plan – you are allowed to refuse. There is just one thing I need to ask you before you agree. Are you a racist?” – the last question was truly strange, but he still answered:_  
_“I lived in the slums, the hunger didn't choose whether you are a human or an elf or a dwarf. I don't care about race.”_  
_He watched her pensively after answering._

_The knights-errant... Is it possible?_

_“I want to go with you” – he said in a stronger voice._  
_“Then swear to me. Once you ride with us today, there is no going back, until I release you of your pledge. We do things, which require uttermost trust” – she stated sternly._  
_“I swear on my mother's grave to follow your orders and never break your trust. And I guess, that the punishment is death?”_  
_“We didn't need to check and we don't plan to change that. We are the Riders, Farchogion, and we care for each other” – the other man stated again._  
_“OK. You are either crazy or incredibly idealistic” – Albert stated. – “But... maybe this is why it's so easy to trust you.”_  
_“We are both and neither. But... you'll see” – the woman smiled and motioned to him to go with them._  
_He took his belongings and mounted his stolen palomino._

_Did I do it for her or because I believe them? I honestly don't know..._

 

He remembered, that the following weeks were not easy, too. The Riders knew each other well and were incredibly disciplined, determined. He realised, that she wasn't a lover of any of the rest. He got to know them: Caden, Easbeth, Wade, Gareth, Hans, Duncan and Gus, but they were careful, still not trusting him. He learned almost nothing about her, though. Only her name – Fen. The more time he spent with them the more he lusted for her, he couldn't deny that. Once, he even sneaked out from their camp to watch her swim, naked, in the river.  
It was two months later when he understood more. They met Iorveth's commando and for the first time he spent time with Scoia'tael and found them, obviously, impressive and terrifying. But, it was when Isengrim Faoiltiarna came, when he understood, that she was taken. He knew women and always believed, that he could read them with ease. And now he saw, that her relation to Scoia'tael is much deeper and that she truly cared for this man. At first, his own feelings made him angry at the newcomer and Albert despised him. But then, the next day, Isengrim came to train him in the archery. Soon, Albert understood, that it's not easy not to respect and admire this Scoia'tael commander. During the few days, which they've spent in the Prancing Pony Inn and many times later, he became more of a father to Albert than his own father ever did. He has never thought of Fen as anything else as his commander ever again.

Lambert came with another man after a few hours. The newcomer exclaimed at once:  
“Iorveth and Fen again! And Isengrim, obviously! It's so good to see you!”  
“Peter” – Iorveth went to him and hugged him brotherly.  
“Are you planning to stay? I still remember the mess you made the last time, Iorveth! But I didn't expect anything else with a lover like that” – a man called Peter smirked and winced at Fen.  
Dead silence fell on all of them. Fen just looked at Isengrim and quickly looked down. Iorveth was staring at Peter in disbelieve and then, he quickly glimpsed at Saskia, who was quite irritated. When he spoke, he was very careful in choosing his words:  
“Peter... it was a very long time ago and, well... many things have changed. Or... either way...”

Then, Peter saw Saskia's face and Isengrim's possessive grip on Fen's waist.  
“Hmm... I'm sorry, I didn't know...” – he trailed off. – “I guess, that I didn't tell the whole story to the kids, which came here last month, then. Well...” – he said more to himself than to anyone else.  
“The kids?! What kids?” – Isengrim asked at once.  
“They called themselves Ciri, Cidran, Caelebran, Tylluan and Cudyll. They were looking for Geralt of Rivia.”  
“Where did they go, Peter?” – Isengrim inquired further.  
“North. Do you know them?”  
“They are ours, Peter. Idril and Deoiridh are my and Isengrim's daughters and Cidran is Iorveth's and Saskia's son... and Caelebran is like a son to us” – Fen stated.  
“But they didn't know...”  
“No, they didn't. We were using different names for a long time” – she continued. – “What did you tell them?”  
“Well... hmm... it's good, that they didn't know, that the people I spoke about were their parents... And well, in different pairs than... well...” – Peter spoke slowly.  
“Peter...” – Fen whispered. – “Oh... Fuck...”  
They spoke with Peter for a while longer, but then they left Vengerberg. The children were still a month ahead of them and they needed to hurry. Although, they had no hope to catch up with them before they enter Dol Blathanna.


	76. Easbeth Velen 1297

EASBETH

 

Velen 1297  
the riverbank of Dyfne  
the road to Hagge  
Aedrin

In Gwyncuan everything was different. Their lives were peaceful, almost without problems. Almost as if they didn't have past. But back here... well... all came back. There were no Scoia'tael anymore, or as they've heard, almost none but for a group of young Aen Seidhe which was still roaming the valley of Pontar near Flotsam. The four kingdoms were united now. The union was cemented by the marriage between Adda the White and King Stennis, however, they had no heir and the Nilfgaardian Emperor Morvran Voorhis was only waiting for the civil war, which was to erupt in the kingdoms after their deaths. The Pontar Valley and Dol Blathanna were still free-ish and independent-ish. But politics didn't interest them, neither then nor now. They had their own problems. The not-so-nice memory lane started in Vengerberg and the reminder of the unfortunate triangle with Fen in the middle... complicated things. Then, they needed to hide in forests, avoid roads and people, same old, same old... But it reached its peak when they came to the borders of Dol Blathanna. Both Iorveth and Isengrim were in a foul mood, became angry and irritated. The memory of Francesca's betrayal was still fresh for them.  
Easbeth decided, that he had enough of it and risked a lone venture into the forest. He obviously said, that he is going to hunt but... mostly he wanted to get away from this merry company: a dragon, a witcher, a sorceress, a dh'oine, two Aen Seidhe and two inh'eid. On top of that, most of them were officially dead. Truly it was the strangest company he has ever been in. And he was one of the Riders once...  
It was when he was coming back with the game, as he walked in on something or rather... someone... he really shouldn't. Fen and Isengrim, together, entangled in the way, which leaves you no doubts as to what they were doing. For a second, he couldn't avert his gaze.

_How two people, who are together for thirty years by now, can still be so passionate? Or maybe it's the anger, what is driving them right now?_

He retreated quickly and went back to the camp. But on his way, he was pondering. He has never expected them to last so long, not with her character and him being, well... who he was. But they did. Easbeth, himself, enjoyed to the fullest the life of freedom and short-lasting romances. And he didn't expect it to change, but maybe one day he would be doomed as Isengrim put it. Not too romantic, but Fen wouldn't have believed any other explanation, so they stuck to it as a half-joke.

The next day, they were to meet with someone, who might have more information for them. In the morning, from the direction of the forest, came a Seidhe female. And a female she was... Tall and slender, even from the distance he saw light brown hair coming down in elegant waves and when she approached, he noticed amber eyes - darker near the pupils and almost gold on the outside. She was exquisite. He was close, so he greeted her:  
“Ceád'mil. You must be Tallula. It's a true pleasure to meet you.”  
“And you must be Easbeth. Keira warned me about a very seductive inh'eid travelling with my old friend” – she replied in a deep and melodic voice, smiling teasingly.  
“I don't believe, that a woman like you needs such a warning” – he continued.  
“No, I would have you right here and right now if not for the things I came here to tell. But there is always later” – she smiled widely, blinked and passed by him.

_Oh, gods... Thank you! For this distraction. Thank you!_

But his distraction turned out to be a much more complicated general distraction. She went to Fen and hugged her closely. They were talking enthusiastically for a long time, but then, the hell broke loose again. He heard Tallula saying the moment she saw Isengrim:  
“I remember you.”  
“What?” – Fen asked harshly.  
“We hmm... met many years ago in Ban Gleán and it was a very pleasant celebration of Belleteyn night, if I remember correctly. There are no celebrations tonight, but maybe we can... repeat it?” – Tallula flirted shamelessly.  
“Oh yes, why wouldn't you?” – Fen asked smiling, but her voice was dangerous.  
“You? No, my dear friend. We. Don't say, that having all of these fine men around you, you don't exploit it to the fullest?”  
“I think, that we shouldn't continue this line of conversation” – Isengrim interrupted.  
“You fucked my friend” – Fen stated coldly. – “It's a pity that I didn't know it before. I guess, that we are even after all, me mienne.”  
“Are you really comparing a one-night-stand to what you did?” – Isengrim asked in an angry voice.  
“One more of those one-night-stands and I will consider it, yes” – Fen replied.  
“I see, that I probably shouldn't...” – Tallula started.  
“Too late, dear “– Fen interrupted. – “But it's not why I asked for your help. You hold a high position in Dol Blathanna society, what is obvious taking into consideration your lineage. We are looking for someone and we need information.”  
“Keira briefed me. They were here, El'ya. They met with Francesca and Filavandrel. I've met them.”  
“Fuck... Do you know what they were talking about?” – Saskia joined them.  
“Geralt of Rivia. He supposedly headed to Lan Exter and this is what the kids heard” – Tallula answered.  
“And why didn't Francesca just share this information with Yennefer of Vengerberg?” – Isengrim inquired.  
“She did... sort of. But... I don't have more answers for you. The only piece of information I have for you is one phrase I heard Filavandrel saying: D'fhéadfadh sé a bheith fíor.”  
“It may be true... But what?” – Iorveth asked.  
“No idea. And you are?” – she asked looking at Iorveth.  
“Crevan” – he replied easily.  
“Obviously” – she knew well, that it was a lie and now she was looking at Isengrim again.  
“Tallula...” – Fen tried.  
“They are dead. El'ya, what is going on?”

_Beautiful, smart and observant. I like you even more..._

“I cannot tell you, not if you are to go back.”  
“Are you going to kill me, El'ya? Or Fen? Gods... it was you, wasn't it?” – Tallula asked looking at Fen's tensed face. – “They are going to question me, they may not know it yet, but someone will tell, that another daerienn came to Dol Blathanna and this time – uninvited. I already can't go back, my dear.”  
“You plan to join us?”  
“Can I have the blond one?” – the she-Seidhe asked teasingly.  
“He is all yours and judging by the grin on his face, he is all yours more than happily” – Fen replied chuckling.

_Did she just sell me? Again? Well, I might actually like it._

“Then, I do. Can I have you, as well?”  
“I must first erase from my mind the fact, that you fucked my man, dear. And it will take a while” – Fen replied shaking her head.  
“Just remember, that you're not getting younger” – the she-Seidhe laughed mockingly.  
“I love you, too” – Fen replied chuckling.

Later Easbeth found Fen sitting alone at the edge of their camp.  
“I thought, that you would be busy” – she started.  
“I was” – he replied.  
“So what are you doing here?”  
“I wanted to ask you a question. Something, that was on my mind for a long time” – he stated mysteriously.  
“Just please: not about any of the triangles, cause I have had enough of it...”  
“No. About the Riders.”  
“Hmm?”  
“In Gwyncuan and in your previous life you were surrounded by female friends. But there was no woman, other than yourself, among us, why?”  
“I didn't want to take the responsibility for what could have happened to a woman in our line of work.”  
“We knew, that we cannot be taken alive.”  
“Still, I wouldn't risk it. And then, I gave birth to two daughters whom I allowed to go on a journey. Idiot!” – she said more to herself.  
“They are adults, Fen. You couldn't stop them.”  
“I could have tied them somewhere safe...”  
“It would be great parenting, truly” – he mocked her.  
“Es... They are in danger” – she said with fear in her voice.  
“You taught them well. They will survive.”  
“I pray for you to be right.”

They were sitting together in silence for a long time, thinking about the worst nightmares coming true.


	77. Vernon Imbaelk 1298

VERNON

 

Imbaelk 1298  
the road to Densele  
Redania

It took him many days to get there, the winter was cold that year and more to the West there was snow lying on the road. But finally, he was near Densele and he saw a fire in an old Scoia'tael campsite. He slowly approached the spot hidden in the shadows. But what he saw inside the camp made him gasp. Two young elven girls of extraordinary beauty, two young handsome elves, Daegan himself, a boy and...  
“Cirilla?” – he asked softly at the edge of the camp.  
All of her companions were squeezing bows and swords immediately. But Ciri shouted:  
“Don't shot! Vernon!” – she exclaimed happily.  
All, though some reluctantly, lowered their bows.  
“Vernon Roche. I thought, that you are dead” – Daegan greeted him, growling.  
“Daegan. I heard, that recently you came much closer to death than me” – he snarled back. – “You are followed by Redanians and the Crimson Company.”  
“We know” – Ciri replied slowly. – “It got complicated.”  
“Quite. But what did you expect after helping Scoia'tael saving their commander?” – he looked at the four young elves around him with contempt.  
“We are not” – one of the girls, the one with grey eyes, stated in a strong voice.

He froze.

_Her voice... Can you be...?_

“And why are you here?” – the raven-haired boy asked.

At that, he almost fainted.

_Is it possible? You are their children. The girls look like... Isengrim? What the...? And the boy... can he be Iorveth's?_

“I heard about your... exit in Drakenborg and I thought... Never mind. Who are you?”  
“It's none of your business” – the other girl, with blue eyes, said sternly.  
“Geralt of Rivia, despite our differences, is my friend and Cirilla will receive any help from me. I didn't come here to argue with you nor to give you up. I can help, but...”  
“But what?” – the young male Seidhe with dark brown hair asked calmly.

_Just like... still..._

“I would like to know more about you. Still, you are right. We have no time. There is only one place, where we stand a chance” – Vernon stated sternly.  
“We? There is no we, Roche...” – Daegan replied agitatedly.  
“Daegan, let him finish. We are seven and we are hunted by probably a hundred men. We have no chance...” – Ciri calmed him and he spoke no more.  
“The Prancing Pony Inn. Seamus will help” – Vernon continued.  
“We were heading that way” – the human boy stated. – “He is my uncle.”

_And now more and more makes sense..._

They travelled through the night after the young ones introduced themselves to him. He was observing their interactions with each other. Tylluan was apparently manoeuvring between Cidran and Caelebran. Cudyll stayed close with Gilbert. Cirilla... there was surely something going on between her and Daegan of all people... But she was a grown woman, so he spoke nothing... yet. He was more concerned with the responsibility for these children, which he just took... freely.

_Children... well... they are all older, than Fen was when I've met her... But still... Where are you? You fucked up, if I'm right. You seriously fucked up. And where are you now?_


	78. Caelebran Imbaelk 1298

CAELEBRAN

 

Imbaelk 1298  
the Prancing Pony Inn  
the road to Densele  
Redania

In the morning, they arrived at the clearing in the middle of the forest on the road to Densele. There it stood: famous Prancing Pony Inn, made of elegant grey bricks, with black and white ornaments and grey tails. Gilbert smiled at once and started:  
“This is it. The Inn... it was renovated more than twenty years ago. You know... my uncle told me, that one day in 1270 a man came to him and he turned out to be the baron von Manneheim from Wizima. The baron asked for a beer and after he finished it - he offered my uncle very lucrative business proposal. He said, that he had heard, that my uncle's beer is unique from a friend of his and that it would be a good idea to invest in its distribution. He added, that this person was right. Since then, my uncle's beer is sold literally everywhere. His first and most famous ale is called the Eagle, but now there are five more types of beer produced by him in the brewery at the outskirts of Densele. He is a rich man, but he still lives here - in the Inn...”  
“And you? Where did you grow up, Gilbert?” – Deoiridh inquired.  
“My parents... they died from Catriona plague in 1280... I was three at the time... It was my uncle, who took me in, so I was raised here” – he answered.  
“I'm so sorry... I cannot imagine...” – Deoiridh whispered, squeezing Gilbert's hand.

They entered the inn and were introduced to Seamus. He was a really nice, but also strong and decisive man. Seamus knew Daegan, his commando was seeking shelter in his inn more than once, but he was surprised to see Cirilla and Vernon Roche. After they told him the whole story, he accepted their presence and even thanked them for looking after his nephew and the rest of the company.  
The inn was closed at once and they all began preparations. It turned out, that in the cellars, despite the alcohol and food, there was a real armoury. The supply of arrows, some swords, empty bottles.  
“Are the bottles for the Molotov cocktail?” – Caelebran asked.  
“Yes. You are very observant. Can you prepare some?” – Seamus asked in return.  
“I've done it only once... for fun with my uncle, but I think, that I remember how to do it” – the Seidhe answered.  
“And we'll go to prepare traps” – Idril said and went with Cidran upstairs.  
“We planned to construct some covers outside” – Deoiridh stated.  
“Good plan” – Seamus replied and watched her leave with Gilbert.  
In the cellar stood a table with big sheets of paper and some pencils, surrounded by many chairs. It was Seamus, Cirilla, Daegan and Vernon, who sat down and started to talk:  
“I have never been here, Seamus” – Daegan stated.  
“You've never asked” – Seamus replied. – “This is where many actions were planned in the past. Including two of the most daring: Isengrim, Iorveth and Angus Bri Cri planned here the attack on Redanian garrison in 1266. Also, the famous prison-break, the only successful escape from Drakenborg, was planned here by Fen and Isengrim. Both actions were successful. Obviously, there is no evidence here, but if you look at the edge of the table - you will see the symbols” – Seamus said with a smile and pointed out symbols engraved in the wood. There was the eagle and the wolf and a little bit further to the right - the fox and the stag.  
“Why didn't you tell me?” – Daegan asked looking at Seamus pointedly. – “I told you many years ago, that he was my father.”  
“I don't know, Daegan... probably I've hoped, that you would stop. You know what happened to him.”  
“Stop?! How?!” – Daegan asked agitatedly, but no one answered. After a while, he asked: – “Do you know how only Iorveth escaped death in the Ravine?”  
“No. I haven't seen him after 1267. But he didn't escape death for long, did he? He died in 1272...” – Seamus answered with great sadness in his voice.  
“I know. We've heard and then, we were in the Archives...” – Daegan said.  
“What?!” – Vernon asked in a deep shock.  
“We were in the Royal Archives, Vernon. Did you know her? Fen?” – Ciri asked with curiosity.  
“No. I only heard of her” – Vernon answered calmly.  
“Fucking spy...” – Daegan spatted.  
“What? It's impossible...” – it was Seamus' time to be shocked.  
“It's the only explanation why there is literally nothing on her and her Riders in the Archives” – Ciri stated.  
“She would never betray Isengrim” – Seamus said in a strong voice.  
“Didn't you hear, that she was with Iorveth at the same time?” – Ciri inquired.  
“What?! I knew them all. I'll never believe that” – Seamus replied in disbelieve.  
“She was a spy and a whore” – Daegan stated.  
“How dare you?!” – Seamus shouted, standing up. – “She saved more Scoia'tael, than you have seen in your life. She was their only hope more than once. If any of them was here, including your father, you would lose your teeth for that.”  
“What?! Did she fuck him, too?! And you know? They are not here, their bones lay in the Ravine of the Hydra. And who do you think is responsible for that?!” – Daegan shouted standing up, too.  
The dead silence fell on them before Seamus spoke again:  
“Francesca Findabair. And you know it as well as I do.”

Daegan didn't answer, but sat down, resigned. Caelebran heard all of their conversation from another room and sighed. After that, they started to plan the defence and spoke no more about the old times or the commanders of old. But he had a thought of his own:

_Women... who would understand them?_

 

Only a few hours later, they saw them coming. The Crimson Company - more than a hundred armed men. They were watching them from the windows with resignation.

_We are all going to die..._

Then, he heard the voice bellowing outside:  
“My name is the Vampire. And you know what? I don't need to kill you all, if I come back with Daegan's head I'll be paid handsomely enough. Just give him up and we'll go...”  
They answered him with a Molotov cocktail thrown by Caelebran from the window. The fire caught the grass just in front of the bellowing man.  
“So, I have my answer. Company! Kill them all!”

Men started to run in the direction of the inn from every direction. He was in the front with Idril, Cidran and Seamus. In the back were Deoiridh, Gilbert, Ciri, Daegan and Roche. They barricaded all doors and windows, but left openings for shooting and throwing the cocktails. They were very good archers, but it wasn't enough, obviously. Soon, the attackers were close to breaking in from the back.  
“Roche!” – Seamus shouted. – “In the cellar, there is an underground passage, which leads outside to the line of the trees. You may try to attack them from behind.”  
“We are on our way.”  
All five, who were guarding the back door, ran to the cellar. Suddenly, out of the line of the trees, the arrows started to fly towards the attackers, who were falling like flies one by one... After a few waves of arrows, he recognised them. Scoia'tael.

_We may yet survive this._

But as he thought that, the main door swung open and the mercenaries started to flow inside. He and his friends, they stood in the circle with swords in their hands. They were outnumbered, but the training they received in Gwyncuan seemed to be much more than just exercises. They were good - much better than the attackers expected. The bodies around them started to fall in piles.


	79. Gilbert Imbaelk 1298

GILBERT

 

Imbaelk 1298  
the Prancing Pony Inn  
the road to Densele  
Redania

When they emerged from the hidden passage, they realised, that they are not alone. The Scoia'tael were fighting all around them, so without thinking twice, they joined the battle. From behind him, he heard a strong, commanding male voice:  
“Ni'l ceim siaar!”  
So they didn't, they all fought to death. The fight was almost over, when he saw something, that froze blood in his veins: three men were dragging Cudyll in the direction of the forest. He didn't hesitate and ran towards her. The fight was unequal. He knew, that he would die the moment he fell to the ground. Still, he looked at Cudyll - also lying on the ground only few steps from him, but still alive. Then, he closed his eyes.  
But the deathly blow didn't come. Instead, two dead bodies fell to the ground next to him, both pierced by arrows. He slowly turned around and looked up. Then, he gasped.

_Am I hallucinating? Or am I dead?_

Standing in front of him was a handsome, proud and terrifying Seidhe. A legend, a ghost, the leader of Scoia'tael and Vrihedd Brigade. No other, but a long-dead man with a terrible scar running across his face and long dark-brown hair moving in the wind. He still had long-bow in his hand, but looked Gilbert in the eyes calmly. Then, the Seidhe looked to Gilbert's left, where Cudyll was still lying on the ground, sobbing quietly.  
A dozen steps to Gilbert's right, with swords dripping with blood, walking slowly towards the Inn - was the woman with many names, all of them only whispered by now. The spy and the assassin, who owed loyalty to no one. She was no longer young, but looked much younger, than she should.  
In the direction she headed, he saw Daegan hesitating before killing the man at his feet. He was pleading on his knees for his life and Gilbert knew, that he wouldn't be able to kill that man, too. Gilbert barely heard her voice, but it was cold as ice:  
“Only dead men tell no tales. Never, ever hesitate, boy.”  
Then, she put crossed swords at the man's neck and chopped off his head. Afterwards, she turned around and went back to the man lying on the ground. Gilbert saw, that he is squeezing what was left of his right hand.  
“And as to you... I've heard, that you are called the Vampire. Funny thing... we have some real vampires with us and one of them cannot wait to meet you. To taste you...” – she said almost seductively.  
What happened next was a true horror. The man wearing black approached, knelt and sunk his teeth into the man's neck. He drunk his blood for a while and the woman was watching the scene with interest, tilting her head. The real vampire ripped apart the man's throat. The woman asked afterwards with curiosity:  
“And how was it?”  
“Foul” – the vampire smiled at her and both chuckled.  
Then, she was approached by Vernon Roche and hugged him closely.

_Fen... Cerbin... the beacon of death. But she saved our lives. They saved our lives..._

He saw another man heading in the direction where Fen and Vernon stood. He wore a crimson bandanna and was just sheathing his sword. Still, Gilbert saw raven-black hair escaping the material and elven longbow at his back. He approached Roche and greeted him:  
“Roche.”  
“Iorveth.”  
“Where are they?”  
“You fucked up. Seriously.”  
“We know, Vernon” – Fen replied slowly.  
“Inside” – Vernon pointed to the Inn.  
“Thank you, my friend” – Fen stated and walked with Iorveth towards the Inn.

Gilbert tried to sit. He got up and saw a woman with dark blond hair approaching slowly with a warm smile. Then, he heard his uncle's voice:  
“Gilbert! But how...?”  
When the boy looked up at him, he noticed shock, confusion and then a huge grin on his uncle's face as he whispered:  
“Isengrim?!”  
But his shock was nothing in comparison to the utterly confused face of Caelebran, who stood at his side.  
“Seamus. Thank you” – when Gilbert looked at Isengrim Faoiltiarna - he saw, that the man was kneeling next to Cudyll, who was observing the interaction with a pure horror on her face.

Cudyll tried to stand up, but Isengrim said calmly, trying to help her:  
“Be careful, you are wounded, luned.”  
But Cudyll shook off his hand. Gilbert stood up and got to her side in a blink of an eye. She looked at him, still confused, but allowed him to help her up. Then, when they were all standing - Gilbert, Cudyll and Caelebran facing Seamus, Isengrim and the blond woman, who just came - Cudyll started to breathe heavily and to shake.


	80. Idril Imbaelk 1298

IDRIL

 

Imbaelk 1298  
the Prancing Pony Inn  
the road to Densele  
Redania

The fight was over. They were saved by Scoia'tael... The same Scoia'tael she despised so much not long ago. She was still inside the Inn with Cidran. Seamus and Caelebran went through the back door to help outside, but she was kneeling at the side of one of many men they killed here. Cidran dropped to his knees next to her, but neither touched her nor spoke a word.

_Thankfully... I couldn't bear it right now..._

Then, they heard footsteps and saw two figures coming inside through the main door.

_I killed a man, even three or maybe more. I killed a man._

When the figure approached her, she looked up from the dead body in front of her.  
“It's all right, ma mienne” – the known voice of the woman calmed her down. The arms she has known since her birth were around her and she was hugged closely.  
“But... I killed... I...”  
“I know. Breathe.”  
“Fen!” – one of the Scoia'tael unknown to Idril came and her mother... turned her head asking: – “What is it?”  
“Do we burn them?”  
“No. We bury them. Fifty steps ahead from the second window to you right there is already a mass grave. Next to an oak tree with the engraved squirrel. It should be easy to dig there. Seamus surly kept our shovels, probably in the cellar, but you need to ask him...” – she answered calmly.  
“Yes, Ma'am” – the Scoia'tael replied and went outside.  
“You are her...” – Idril's voice was shaking with many emotions.  
“I had many names in my past, my dear” – the woman said quietly and she looked her in the eyes.  
“Don't touch me!” – Idril exclaimed, not able to determine what she was feeling right now. – “I have no idea who you are!”  
“Cidran...” – she heard another well-known voice. She looked at her uncle standing next to her mother and she felt anger. Rage. Cidran, who was kneeling at her side, was still dumbfounded.  
“Idril... you know who I am...” – her mother tried again.  
“No! My mother would never betray my father!” – she shouted with despise in her voice. – “She... Just go away! Both of you! I cannot even look at you!” – she was shouting louder and louder with every word she spoke.  
“Cidran...” – her uncle tried again, too, but the only answer he received was:  
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Go.”  
When her mother and uncle stepped outside the Inn, she heard her resigned voice calling:  
“Saskia! Come to speak to them. They refuse to listen to the two of us.”  
Then, she heard Vernon speaking:  
“Well, I must say... This is much more, than I expected from you, Lyanna.”  
“Not now, Vernon. My daughter's despising voice is enough for one day.”

Afterwards, there was silence. It was Cidran, who broke it saying more to himself:  
“Why would she call Saskia?”  
“Because your aunt thought, that you will find me the least irritating person right now. After all, the only man I've been sleeping with is your father, unlike some... Though, it's still funny, that it's the two of you, who are so indignant...” – the woman came through the door, smirking. No, not the woman – her aunt. She was carrying a long-sword at her side and a bow. She knelt slowly in front of both of them.  
“Mum?” – Cidran asked in disbelieve. – “Are you a dragon?!”  
“Yes, Cid... I am” – she answered smiling gently.  
“What is wrong with all of you? Is my father a vampire? How could you lie to us about everything for all of our lives?” – Idril lost her temper and shouted.  
“No, he is not. But, as you probably guessed and we heard that you were doing quite a research on your own, he is the Isengrim Faoiltiarna” – Saskia answered still smiling.  
“What?! He is dead. They are all dead!” – Cidran exclaimed.  
“We would be, if it wasn't for Idril's mother. But we were lucky, all of us” – Saskia stated in a soft voice.

Idril and Cidran looked at each other in disbelieve.

_What is true and what is false? Nothing makes sense anymore..._


	81. Deoiridh Imbaelk 1298

DEOIRIDH

 

Imbaelk 1298  
the Prancing Pony Inn  
the road to Densele  
Redania

She was looking at the Seidhe in front of her. It was the man she heard about and was equally horrified and disgusted with. The man, who looked exactly like her father. But her father didn't have a terrible scar running across his face. Then, she shouted:  
“You are a murderer! I cannot believe it! I don't know you! You are a stranger to me!”  
“Deoiridh...” – her father started.  
“No! No... I don't want to hear anything!”  
“Luned... Look at me” – he continued.  
“I can't. You repel me” – she answered in a cold voice.  
“Deoiridh” – another well-known voice came. Mother.  
“And you! Is there anyone here you didn't fuck yet? Are you sure who my father is? Or Idril's?!” – she shouted at her mother, coldly and viciously.  
“How dare you!” – her mother's voice was cold as ice, too.  
“You are a traitor and a cheater!” – Deoiridh continued.  
“And you really think that you are the first to discover it?” – her mother asked coldly.

Upon hearing that, she ran in the direction of the forest. She heard from behind her:  
“I'll bring her back” – it was Regis, who spoke calmly.  
“Thank you, Regis” – her mother replied. – “It came out wrong...”  
“Yes. Yes, it did, ma mienne” – her father stated resignedly.

But she was running as fast as she could. Obviously... the vampire caught her in a second.  
“Let me go!” – she demanded, fighting hard against his grip.  
“You cannot run away from who you are, Deoiridh” – Regis replied gently.  
“It's not who I am! My parents are good, peaceful people. These... monsters are not them” – she shouted and sobbed.  
“Yes, they are. Both. We found them near White Bridge and we travelled together for a long time. They built their lives in Gwyncuan to escape this, to become what you know. Then, they were building still – for you. But they have their past and there is nothing anyone can do about it. They came back to the Realms risking their lives for all of you - the moment Lambert and Keira Metz informed them, that you are helping Cirilla. Your little journey would end up tragically if it wasn't for them. You know it, Deoiridh. They became once more, who they needed to be – the fiercest warriors who walk this Earth. And they did it for you.”

She calmed down and looked at him. Then, she nodded and walked back. On her way she met Gilbert, who waited at the edge of the forest. He spoke:  
“Deoiridh...”  
“I must speak to them. It's time to face the truth, after being lied to for twenty years” – she took his hand and they walked slowly back to the Inn.


	82. Daegan Imbaelk 1298

DAEGAN

 

Imbaelk 1298  
the Prancing Pony Inn  
the road to Densele  
Redania

He was still standing dumbfounded in front of the Inn. He saw Cirilla talking to two of the newcomers and one of them was a witcher like her. Then, he saw his men busy taking care of the bodies lying all around them.

_Only dead men tell no tales. Never, ever hesitate, boy._

The voice of the woman was still in his mind. The same voice, which was now giving orders to his men.

_That's enough!_

“How dare you?!” – he snarled at her.  
“Excuse me?” – Fen answered with a question.  
“You are a traitor. How dare you give orders to Scoia'tael?”  
“Ah... this again” – she answered lightly. – “Do you really think, that I would be standing here, if much older and much more experienced commanders than you didn't decide, that they like me alive more?”  
“Commanders?”  
“Officers of the Vrihedd. All I could save... Yes...” – she explained.  
“And... Angus Bri Cri? Is he...?” – he asked with hope in his voice. Hope, which he hated the second he saw Fen's face.  
“I am sorry... I...”  
“Did you kill him?”  
“What?! No! I would never. But I failed him. I... didn't foresee the danger.”  
“Did you fuck him, too?”  
“How dare you, boy?” – it was Isengrim Faoiltiarna himself, walking in his direction with furious expression.  
“Is...” – Fen caught his arm and almost whispered, forcing him to look at her. When he calmed down just a little bit, she continued: – “Look at him, Is... can he be...?”  
When the older Seidhe looked at him, there was a surprise and then understanding in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was warm and calm:  
“Are you the son of Angus Bri Cri?”  
“Yes. My name is Daegan” – he answered proudly.  
“I... didn't know, what means, that neither did he...” – Isengrim said with pain in his voice.  
“I...” – Daegan was confused at this display of emotions, but gathered himself quickly – “no, he didn't. My mother discovered, that she is pregnant after Brenna. I was born in Savione in 1269, just before the Ravine of the Hydra.”  
“But Angus died in Lammas in Dillingen, Daegan” – Iorveth, who just joined them, whispered.  
“What?”  
“He... was murdered by mercenaries” – Fen stated in a sad voice. – “Come inside, Daegan. Seamus has beer. It's always easier with a mug in your hand...”  
She passed by him and disappeared inside the Inn. Isengrim and Iorveth followed her shortly. Then, Idril and Cidran came out and headed to incoming Deoiridh, Gilbert and Caelebran. He heard them talking quietly. Suddenly, a soft hand was on his shoulder. He looked and saw Ciri. Behind her two vampires, the witcher with a pale-blond woman and Vernon Roche entered the Inn, too. Ciri spoke:  
“You can learn from these people more than you've ever dreamt of. Come inside.”  
But he still couldn't move. She took his hand gently and led the way. In the main hall, on the edge of the table in the middle, was sitting Fen. She had a mug in her hand. He realised, that she took off her shoes and had her feet resting on Isengrim's lap, who was sitting on the chair turned to the side. In this position, he saw her and door at the same time. Fen's hand was resting leisurely on his left arm. To their left, by the other table, Seamus and Vernon were sitting, conversing and looking in the direction of the door. To Fen's right, Saskia sat on the chair and they were deep in the conversation. Iorveth was sitting on the chair behind Saskia and was hugging her from behind, while his head rested on her shoulder. To their right, by the other table, were sitting Lambert and Keira with two vampires. They were all deep in conversation and he saw only side of their faces.  
Ciri led him to the table in front of Fen and they sat. Shortly, Cidran with Idril, Gilbert with Deoiridh and Caelebran came, as well. The first pair sat to his right, while the other three to his left. The silence fell, but he noticed, that all of the people in front of him looked at them, smiling gently. Fen glimpsed at Isengrim, who nodded and she started to speak:  
“We still have Redanians on our tails, but they'll take their time. We left so many false trails, that it will take them a few days to figure them out. By then, we'll be far in Roggeveen, hopefully, already on the ships. We all leave the day after tomorrow and there will be no discussion as to that. We are all hunted and after what happened here, we are all facing executions. Daegan and his commando are, obviously, invited to join us. And I hope, that I won't need to pull my rank over any of you and Isengrim has the same hope.”  
As she finished, two more men and a Seidhe female came to the inn. All were cloaked and carried weapons exactly as Fen did.

_The Riders._

They were followed shortly by fifteen men from his commando.  
Fen smiled and asked:  
“How are we?”  
“They are all dead. We caught the last one in the forest. We covered some trials, too. The bodies are buried, Scoia'tael did a great job. Four stayed outside to keep watch, just in case.”  
“Great. Thank you, Easbeth, Tallula and you, Albert.”

The newcomers sat at the main table, behind Fen, while his men situated themselves near the door and windows. All were observing Fen intently, who continued:  
“I know, that you want to hear the whole story, but I'm certainly too tired for that today. We will limit ourselves to the most important points, because I guess, that it's the most interesting part for all of you. The rest you'll hear on the way...” – she paused. – “You are right. I was a spy and I was sent to Scoia'tael. It was much later, when I realised, that it was Triss Merigold, who invented the best part of the plan: she sent me to divide and conquer... I've met Coinneach in 1263 and I did exactly, what she expected me to do: I fell for him. But I left soon.”  
“Then, in my arrogance, the moment I heard about the Riders, I decided to follow and interrogate them” – Isengrim continued the story. – “At first, I sent one of my men - Leanan - to Fen, but she, well... has her way with men. So we learned nothing. Then, I've met her personally in Passiflora and I was doomed, too. I wouldn't say that then, but I've fallen in love with her the same night. Although, I knew, that there was something between her and my friend and mentor: Coinneach Da Réo” – he ended with a sad smile.  
“Later, I've met the Riders here - in the Prancing Pony” – Iorveth said. – “We became friends. When Isengrim came and he and Fen disappeared upstairs, the situation was crystal clear for all of us. They were together for the next two years. We trusted Riders with no questions asked. In Lammas in 1267 they rode out of Brokilon to allow us to join the Nilfgaardian army, to become the Vrihedd Brigade. We were sure, that they died. It was a suicidal mission, so we mourned them as we mourned all fallen Scoia'tael, cause it was exactly, what they became for us. In the meantime, we had a war to fight in.”  
“When we rode out of the forest” – Fen continued – “we were sure, that we are going to die. Ordinary soldiers had no idea who we were. We were chased, but we were lucky to get to the Blue Stripes. But Vernon, as smart as he is, realised, that I betrayed. We were sent to the lands already occupied by Nilfgaard to distract and bite them beyond their lines with an order to kill on the spot any Scoia'tael we may encounter. More than the order, it was a death sentence for us all. But, luckily, some of my men and I - we survived. Obviously, we became selectively blind: no Scoia'tael was ever killed by the Riders, that I can swear to you” – she said strongly.  
“In Cintra we were sold” – Isengrim said. – “We were gathered in one place on the Nilfgaardian territory and they sent us back to the Nordlings for execution. On the ship, one of the officers suggested, that Eryr was a spy, but we didn't believe him. We arrived at Dillingen. Me, Angus and Riordain - we were called out by mercenaries. The rest was led to the warehouse and then further North, to Drakenborg. Angus and Riordain were found not guilty - they were to be free, but someone paid for their deaths. I watched the death of my friends, of my oldest friend... But then, I ran - only to be caught by general Jon Natalis a few hours later. He led me back to the rest of the officers and we journeyed North: it was the death march...”  
“It was count Hoenneken, who paid for Angus' and Riordain's lives. He was dead the next year, I made sure of that” – Fen stated coldly. – “When I've learned about the Peace of Cintra, I went to the king, for whom I was working since 1260 – Foltest. I offered anything in return for the lives of all officers of the Vrihedd Brigade. He agreed to let them go, but gave me a list of 35 names of people to eliminate. A life for a life. I, obviously, accepted.”  
“The Death Squad was travelling with us North, though we didn't know, who they were” – Iorveth added. – “It was in the Ravine of the Hydra, when we realised, that it was Fen and her men: alive and granting us another miracle. We were free and officially dead. We all knew, that something is wrong: Vernon Roche was there and allowed it. We knew, that Fen is not who we thought she was. But we paid it no mind – she saved us and our men and it was all, that mattered.”  
“Then, she suggested we go beyond the Fiery Mountains: to Gwyncuan” – Isengrim said with a smile. – “We gathered on our way as many Scoia'tael as we could and we left the Realms. As we believed then – for good. But after just few months, Fen disappeared again with all of her men. At once, I decided to follow with Iorveth. We found her three months later in La Valette castle with a dh'oine: duke Lacrosse, in a very suggesting situation. I saw red and I left. By then I didn't know, that I interpreted the situation wrong... On my way back, I found Neilina - the woman I was with from time to time before 1263 - and we stayed together. She decided to go with me to Gwyncuan. At first, it was all fine, but soon... we couldn't stand each other. But... on the Elskerdeg Pass, she realised, that she is pregnant. We... I...” – he paused – “she wasn't sure who is the father. Just before we met she was with Velloran and then we... Well... Caelebran, you were born five months later. It's highly improbable, but... I may be your father.”

The silence fell. Caelebran was dumbfounded. Idril hid her face behind her hands. It was Iorveth, who broke the silence:  
“But I stayed in Temeria and I met with Fen. She told me about Saskia and I decided to meet her. I've fallen in love with her the day I've met her, but... she was her innocent self and I was, well... my old self. Before the siege of Vergen we were together for a while, but...”  
“I found Iorveth with Ciaran aep Easnillen and, unlike Isengrim, I did consider this kind of relationships cheating” – Saskia stated coldly. – “We broke up, but still, we all fought together in Vergen and we won. In Loc Muinne Iorveth left with Fen and I went back to Vergen. But shortly after, I... there was no place for me anymore in Pontar Valley, so I followed Iorveth and Fen to Gwyncuan.”  
“In the meantime, I was killing people” – Fen said with a resigned smile – “the list was long and ended with the name of Radovid V the Stern. I killed him in Loc Muinne in Feainn in 1271. Still, Foltest was dead and I was blamed for his death. I didn't kill him and I was always loyal to the Temerian crown, but... I didn't foresee the danger. Adda the White, Queen of Redania and Temeria, exiled me. All I wanted throughout all these years, was to come back home - to Redania. To take back my lands and title, which was taken from me after my parents were murdered by Radovid... oh... I forgot: my birth name is Lyanna Elia marquess von Reichenbach, so... well... Still, after I was exiled, I travelled with Iorveth to Vengerberg and Peter told us about Isengrim and Neilina... This is when we... were together for some time.”  
“Some months...” – Isengrim interrupted in an angry voice.  
“Yes...” – Iorveth stated slowly. – “But we decided to come back to Gwyncuan. On the way, Fen told me her story, but I still didn't anticipate what would happen, as we arrive. Also, on our way, we decided to stop... well... to be just friends again. Shorty after, Saskia found us. She was furious at first, but... she broke up with me before, so... we managed to work it out and we were back together. In Gwyncuan we found Isengrim with Neilina and the child. And he was raging.”  
“Well...”  
“I know. I deserved that first punch.”  
“But it got out of control” – Isengrim agreed. – “Either way, when I learned, that actually I was the first to cheat on Eryr - I took her home. But in the evening...”  
“I arranged a little trial for myself, expecting the only possible outcome: a death sentence” – Fen stated cheerfully. – “But... the Scoia'tael decided, that they wouldn't judge me. My life was spared and then, Ngobaith - our phoenix - came. We all started to believe, that there is hope. That we can start over. Me and Is, we... found a way back to each other... We changed everything, we had children, we abandoned our names and we decided to teach you how to live in a different world than the one we lived in ourselves. The rest you know, kids...”

After the story was finished, they were all silent. Then, Isengrim spoke:  
“Now, children: stay, talk, think, drink, go to sleep. Do whatever you need, just don't leave this place. Anyone on the watch-duty has our blessing to tie you up somewhere in the cellar if you try” – he looked sternly at all of them. – “But we have other things to do” – he stood up looking at Fen. She smiled, bent for her shoes and took his hand.  
They disappeared shortly upstairs, followed by Iorveth and Saskia, Easbeth and Tallula and Albert.

_Did he just called me a child?! Well... I probably deserved that. But now... now I know. We were fools to believe that anything back then was black and white. Those are the people of the shadows - their lives were always in the shades of grey. But... they are alive._

It was Ciri, who stated quietly, what he was thinking:  
“Where is life there is hope. And you... you are the next generation. You are the hope... Idril!”  
“I know. Avallac'h.” - the Seidhe replied.  
“What?” – Keira Meth inquired.  
“He said something about Isengrim Faoiltiarna... about our father: _Some believe, that he was born to lead the way and his line is not so easy to end._ He was right. We are proof of that...”  
The sisters looked at each other strangely.

_We are the hope..._


	83. Iorveth Imbaelk 1298

IORVETH

 

Imbaelk 1298  
the Prancing Pony Inn  
the road to Densele  
Redania

The following morning, he was the first to get downstairs. Young Scoia'tael, who kept the last watch, saluted to him respectfully. He greeted them and went to the kitchens. Soon, Seamus joined him. He looked at Iorveth pensively before he spoke:  
“I knew from the moment I saw you and Fen interacting with each other, that it may happen. But, I was afraid, that either of you would do something stupid. You didn't, Iorveth... In the end, it was the one, I would never suspect of something like that, who lost his mind... for a while. But still - he did. There is nothing to be ashamed of. But... I suspect, that the two of you together... It must have been a dangerous game. Saskia on the other hand, seems to me as a much better person than any of you... You are more lucky than you are wise, fraere” – at the end, he smiled.  
“And you are much wiser than you look” – Iorveth replied with a smirk. – “Yes. You are right about everything.”  
“Your son is a spitting image of you. He went upstairs with Idril yesterday. I guess, that you've known about them...”  
“Well... he and Caelebran fought for six months over her before they left Gwyncuan to... let her go. But I must admit, I thought, that it was just a one-night-stand... Though...”  
“They are your children. It was bound to be complicated.”  
“You talk about our children, but pray tell me: where is your nephew, fraere?” – Isengrim entered the kitchen with a quite tensed face.  
“Hmm... upstairs, too.”  
“With my younger daughter, isn't he?” – the Seidhe continued dangerously.  
“Well... you should speak to her. You will understand” – Seamus answered calmly.  
“If you are saying, what I think you are trying to say... it's not the boy, Seamus... but he is a human... he will...” – Isengrim trailed off, suddenly incredible sorrow crept on his face.  
“Die. He will leave her sooner than later, is that what you wanted to say? But they may have many years together, as you had and still have with Fen” – Seamus replied in a sad voice. – “If you could go back in time and never met her, would you do it, Is?”  
“I... no. Never” – Isengrim shook his head slowly.  
“Then you have your answer.”  
“You're right” – Isengrim agreed slowly. – “I was there yesterday. He was ready to die for her. I couldn't ask for more for Cudyll. Still, I sympathise with both of the boys... My daughters are a lot like their mother...” – the Seidhe stated chuckling.  
“Funny... really funny” – Iorveth said laughing darkly.

When they went with the food to the main hall, everyone was there, but Fen and Keira. Caelebran, Gilbert, Daegan and Cidran stood up and approached them with tense expressions. The girls were sitting and looking at them intently, but were smiling and seemed relaxed. It was Daegan who started, looking at Isengrim:  
“We are sorry. I am sorry. I should have never said... Squass'me.”  
“There is nothing to forgive, Daegan. You didn't know and from what you've learned... Well... it was easy to draw such a conclusion.”  
He nodded and bowed his head. Then, he called his men and all went to the kitchen for more food. Later, it was Caelebran, who spoke:  
“I... wish you had told me...”  
“Me too. But we all decided otherwise. There was no way to tell you without telling all the rest of the story. And... many of us hoped not to tell it, probably never, but at least not until you are much older. Forgive us, Caelebran...”  
“I did. You were always like a father to me and it should have been enough not too... well... it will never happen again” – the boy said and retreated quickly.  
Cidran just went to his father and hugged him. There was nothing more, that needed to be said. But when they separated, he remained next to Gilbert, ready to support the dh'oine in what he wanted to say. Gilbert, on the other hand, was pale and shaking slightly. He glimpsed at Seamus, but looked back at Isengrim quickly. He took a deep breath and spoke quickly:  
“I love her. I...” – he wanted to continue, but was interrupted by the Seidhe he was speaking to:  
“I know.”  
“I... oh...”  
“I saw you yesterday and I saw your face back then. I did something similar for Eryr many years ago. Just... never let her go, if you want her to stay. From my experience, when they come back home - they bring trouble. And Deoiridh has already ran away few times, but this cursed journey is the best example. Just... don't let her out of your sight... it usually works.”  
When he finished - he, Iorveth and Seamus started to laugh heartedly. But Cidran and Gilbert were dumbfounded for a long time, before both smiled slightly and retreated to the girls.  
They sat with Saskia, Vernon, Lambert, Easbeth, Albert, Tallula and the vampires. It was Iorveth, who said:  
“Thank you, Roche. For everything. We've never had a chance to...”  
“You know, old friend, I wouldn't have done it if Lyanna hadn't begged Foltest on her knees for your lives. It was nothing personal, but... I was just following orders. Still, in Vergen, surprisingly, we were something like allies and it worked out quite well.”  
“Yes. Yes, it did” – Iorveth agreed with a smirk.  
“The funny thing is, that despite letting your children come to the Realms, what was the stupidest thing I can imagine - you did a good job. None of them snarled: dh'oine! at me. If it wasn't for obvious similarities, especially their voices, I would seriously doubt, if they are yours. Especially...”  
“Don't” – Iorveth stopped him in a dangerous voice, but Roche just laughed merrily. All, but for himself and Isengrim, joined him.

After a while, Idril and Deoiridh approached them. They smiled at Isengrim, but Idril asked concerned:  
“Dad, where is mum?”  
“Well... I thought, that she went for a walk in the morning, but...”  
“She is not in your room and her horse is missing. We checked” – Deoiridh replied.  
“Did she leave you alone in bed, again?” – Seamus asked smirking.  
Isengrim went pale. He stood up and asked loudly:  
“Have anyone seen Fen?”  
“Or Keira?” – Lambert added, standing up, too.  
No one answered. Isengrim just stood there in disbelieve. They all started to search the Inn and its premises. But the two women were gone.  
“Keira's horse is missing, too.” - Lambert stated with concern.  
“And some of Eryr's things” – Isengrim replied. – “What the fuck?”

They all headed back to the Inn and started to worry. It was Roche, who stated slowly:  
“She gave her word to Adda the White, that she wouldn't come back. You know how she is...”  
“You don't think that she...” – Iorveth started, but trailed off.  
Isengrim sat down and hid his face in his hands. Dead silence fell. After a moment, his friend spoke sternly:  
“We planned to leave first thing tomorrow. She knows where we are heading to. There is nothing we can do.”  
“But dad... is mum...?” – Deoiridh looked at him in horror.  
“I don't know, my dear. We must wait and see.”

Iorveth followed Isengrim outside. They stood in silence looking at the forest.  
“Every time I believed, that she left me - she came back” – Isengrim started.  
“She will be back, Is.”  
Thankfully, as he spoke, two horses galloped in their direction. Both, Keira and Fen, were back.

_Gods... This woman..._

“Where have you been?!” – Isengrim almost shouted.  
“In Tretogor” – she answered calmly.  
“Where?!”  
“I had an audience with the Queen.”  
“Have you lost your mind?!”  
“Is... I was summoned. I found the message in Drakenborg.”  
“And what happened to: we will go everywhere together? Or at least telling me?” – Isengrim was shouting angrily right now.  
“You seriously think, that I would risk both of our lives? What about girls, Is?! And I didn't know what to tell you before I learned it myself.”  
Iorveth looked at Deoiridh and Idril. They were looking terrified at this fight. Well... Isengrim never shouted, never even raised his voice back at home. Only in the Realms and only at Fen.  
“And what did you learn?” – he asked a little bit calmer.  
“The Redanians will be looking for them near Flotsam. We have a safe passage West and we can come back later through Temeria” – Fen answered.  
“Just like that?”  
“Well... almost. But we will speak later.”  
“Oh no... Speak now. I know all about: we will speak later and what you'll do to me the second I'll ask again. I want to hear it. Now” – he demanded irritated.  
“Morvran Voorhis” – Fen stated coldly.  
“What...?”  
“You asked...” – she answered and headed to hug their daughters.  
Isengrim looked at Iorveth in disbelieve. But... what was there to say?


	84. Saskia Birke 1298

SASKIA

 

Birke 1298  
on the ship  
the Great Sea

They left the port in Roggeveen earlier that day on two ships. They decided to leave their children on one commanded by Cidran and to take the other. Daegan's commando split evenly, but their commander and Ciri decided to sail with the kids.

_They grew close..._

She was a little bit unsure as to the outcome of their decision. Especially, after she heard her son's conversation with Fen just before they sailed out:  
“Cidran, the command on the White Dress is yours” – she stated.  
“I know” – he replied, but after a moment corrected himself. – “Yes, Ma'am. Sorry, Ma'am.”  
“Idril is furious, but it's your turn and I've already promised her the command on our way back. But... try not to anger her more...” – Fen added softly.  
“I'll try, aunt.”  
In a strange way, both of Saskia's sons loved sailing as much as Fen's daughters did and were more than happy to learn from their aunt. She had a way with both of them and as the captain - sometimes she was the only person, who could scold them effectively. But, what they've learned a week ago, changed things. Not completely, but it did. The children were still trying to wrap their minds around what they've heard about their parents' past and reacted differently. Cidran mostly by defiance. The evening before Roggeveen she overheard his conversation with Iorveth:  
“Every time I was... doing things - you scolded me as if it was the worst thing in the world. But you, yourself, did much, much worse things. Including...”  
“Don't, Cidran” – Iorveth stated strongly.  
“OK. But why did you scold me? You are a hypocrite...”  
“I've learned from my mistakes and I hoped, that I can raise you not to make them. Obviously, it was just wishful thinking.”  
“I...”  
“You did exactly the same with Idril and you know it, Cid. You crossed that line, too. Just... remember, that some boundaries are better when they are not crossed.”  
“Why?”  
“Because you may not like what you'll find on the other side. And you may not be able to look in the mirror for a long time...”  
“Maybe...” – Cidran replied, but he wasn't convinced.

On the ship, she quickly led Iorveth to their cabin. Sex in front of their children was one of the boundaries, which they weren't willing to cross, but now... they were alone. Space was limited, but it was still comfortable enough, much more than grass... She never got used to making love under the stars.  
Iorveth, obviously, read her mind and started to undress her already on their way. In their cabin, he removed her trousers with pants and was on his knees in between her tights in a blink of an eye. This caught her off guard and she moaned loudly. She was on the edge quickly and motioned him to get up to her. Getting up, he lifted her, too and pushed her back on the wooden door. Only a second later, he was inside her and smiled looking her in the eyes. The door was creaking rhythmically, what made them both laugh just before they came, muffling their moans in a kiss.  
Afterwards, they remained for a time in the cabin. They spoke mostly about Gwynbleidd and what may have happened to him. Their imagination was not encouraging, so they decided to go back on the deck. Once she emerged from the companionway, she heard Lambert asking:  
“How two grown-ups, parents, can still be so loud?”  
“Do you have problems with performance, Lambert? Do you need a mentor or a healer, hmm?” – Iorveth asked smirking.  
“What?! Fuck off” – the witcher growled.  
Everyone laughed hard. Fen was standing at the wheel, looking at the horizon and Isengrim was at the foredeck, pulling the line:  
“Is, trim this jib, pull the right sheet harder! If Cidran is there first I'll lose all the shreds of respect I still have” – she laughed at the last part. – “Iorveth, stop bickering with Lambert and get to the foresail sheet, the foresail needs trimming, too. Evellien, we are sailing into left close hauled!”

Iorveth went to the main deck and started to work on the line. It was Keira, who approached Saskia asking:  
“Do you understand any of this?”  
“Yeah... I sail with Fen a lot. She is preparing to tack.”  
“To what?”  
“To change the position of the boat in relation to the wind. She will flip from left close hauled to right close hauled. You will see.”  
“Saskia enough of chit-chatting. Get to left jib sheet!”  
“Ready!”

When she answered, Fen shouted:  
“Prepare for tacking! Is, right jib sheet loosen!”  
“Loosen” – Isengrim shouted back.  
“Iorveth! Foresail sheet loosen!”  
“Loosen!”  
“Ready to tack! Tacking! Saskia, left jib sheet pull!”  
“Pull!”  
“Is, right jib sheet realise!”  
“Realised!”  
“Iorveth, foresail trim!”  
“Trimmed! It draws the air again!”  
“Evellien, good job! That was smooth and swift” – Fen stated with a grin.  
“Can I make a joke, captain?” – Lambert asked.  
“No, Lambert. Permission denied” – Fen replied and all started to laugh again.

After the manoeuvre, they all started to converse again.


	85. Idril Birke 1298

IDRIL

 

Birke 1298  
on the ship  
the Great Sea

Idril and Cidran kept the night shift on their ship. But there was no disturbances on their way. In the morning, they were changed by Deoiridh and Caelebran. Gilbert, Daegan, Ciri and the Scoia'tael were more of passengers than a crew, but they all tried to help. All but those, who spent most of the time vomiting... Well... When Deoiridh approached her, standing next to her by the wheel, she greeted her:  
“Ceád'mil sor'ca.”  
“I'm exhausted.”  
“I know. I'll take the wheel.”  
“Left beam reach handing over.”  
“Left beam reach taking over. How's the wind?”  
“It was stronger in the night, we were even able to sail in broad reach for a while, but now its slowing down again and we must head to the port. What means, that you'll need to trim even more...”  
“We'll be fine. Go, get some sleep.”  
“Sleep? I hope, but I doubt it” – Idril replied with a wide smile.

Idril and Cidran went to the captain's cabin in silence. Once she closed the door, they looked at each other. Nothing has really changed, but the revelations of the last weeks were exhausting. She looked at him and saw something different, too. They all grew up in the last months more than they did in the last twenty years of their lives.

_Just... don't talk about it._

But, obviously, he wanted to discuss it:  
“It was a lot. Really.”  
“I know. Just... let's make love. I don't want to...”  
“But we should...”  
“No, we shouldn't” – she stated taking off her clothes.  
Thankfully, he lost interest in talking as well. For the last few months, they made love quite frequently with quite an imagination, too. But today it was different. When she was pondering on something new to do, he simply pushed her gently on their berth and moved them both to a more comfortable position. His fingers travelled leisurely, almost lazy to her clitoris and he touched her gently. She arched to his touch at once. Just when she thought, that he would do something daring, even in this position, he was just kissing her neck and cleavage softly.

_What is wrong with you today?_

He took it slow to the point when she said:  
“If you are too tired we can go to sleep...”  
“What? Are you?” – he asked surprised.  
“No...”  
“Me neither. What's wrong, Idi?” – he asked and stopped moving altogether.  
“It's just... your touch is different. You are different. Usually we just... do things and we do them quickly and creatively” – she smirked at him.  
“Don't we have time?” – he looked at her seriously.  
“I... yes, they'll take care of the ship...”  
“It's not what I meant.”  
“Then, what did you mean, Cidran?” – asking that, she slightly moved away from him. He noticed it and neared to her again, leaving his hand on her belly.  
“I want to be with you.”  
“More than you are now? Well, it didn't look that way a moment ago...”  
“No. I mean...”  
“Oh...”  
“Oh? Is that your answer?”  
“And if so?”  
“Why are you like that?”  
“Like what?”  
“Cold. You are cold. You are like a snowflake: cold at first and then you just melt away through my fingers and you are gone.”  
“What?!” – Idril exclaimed. – “It's not what I usually hear. Most men believe me to be hot. But I see, that I don't meet your expectations... You know... just go. There is another berth in the cabin.”  
“No” – he replied strongly.  
“No?!” – she exclaimed. – “Fuck you.”  
“You know... I've always believed, that your sister is a runner. But I was wrong. You are running all the time and you hide behind these walls of yours. Have you ever even fall in love with anyone, Idril?”  
“I... no. Obviously not. Come on... We have time. And you are a hypocrite, you know... Did you?”  
“Yes.”  
“With whom?”  
“You. Since I remember. I've been in love with you since I remember, Idril. But you... Caelebran... and then others. Many, many others... I just let it go. But you are here, now, with me and... I'm tired of playing your games.”

She moved, stood up and dressed up. He let her do it, but moved to his other side to watch her. She stood at the door with her hand on the handle when he asked:  
“Do you know what your father said to Gilbert?”  
“Don't bring my father into this. He would be furious and probably is, either way. You're not what he would...”  
“Approve?” – he looked at her. She saw pain in his features, in his eyes. She went too far, but didn't plan to back, either. But he continued: – “Either way... he said: don't let her out of your sight. But with you, it's not enough, is it? You are here, but you aren't at the same time...”

She spoke nothing. But she didn't move, either. She was just standing there and looking at him in shock.

_I hate it. Why do you want to destroy it? What more can you possibly want from me? You are an idiot._

But he continued:  
“I want you Idi. I want you more than anything. But not like that.”  
“So, what do you want from me, Cidran?” – she almost shouted. – “Am I to profess my undying love for you? All right: I will always love you” – she said mockingly. – “Are you this kind of a man who needs a definition? Since when are you so insecure?”

He didn't reply. But she had hurt him again, she knew, still, she continued:  
“You said, that you want me, but: this is me. Exactly this. What you want is an image you created in your head as a teenager. But it's not real. You want the truth, but what will happen, when you won't like it?”  
“It will change nothing for me” – he answered slowly.  
“Really?” – she asked sarcastically. – “All right. I don't feel the same for you, Cid. I care for you, I do. But... I'll promise you nothing and there is nothing more I can give you.”

Dead silence fell between them. Cidran tensed, but was silent. She let go of the handle and leaned on the door, which creaked loudly. She could hear his uneven breathing.

_Why are you doing this to us? What for? Absurd conversations you start before sex. You really shall shut up or preferably never start to talk in the first place._

She lost her patience and asked irritated:  
“And what now? You want me to go to sleep somewhere else?”  
“No” – he replied.  
“So?”  
“I don't know.”  
“I love this answer. Really. It's sooo helpful” – she mocked him again.  
“Will it ever change?” – he asked in a sad voice.  
“What?”  
“Your feelings.”  
“I... are you out of your mind? Why are we having this fucking conversation? I came here to have sex and you did too. What happened?!”  
“I realised, that of all the things I've done last year, of all men and women I had sex with - you are the only one, whom I truly want. I realised, that I had my fun and I don't regret a moment of it, but giving it up would be the easiest thing in the world, if I could be with you” – he answered in an angry voice. As if he was angry at her, at himself, at the world - for his feelings.  
“I'm sorry, then. But...” – she replied coldly.  
“No, Idi. Leave it. Forget I started this absurd conversation. We are getting no where. You are...”  
“What?! What am I Cidran?”  
“Your mother's daughter” – he said looking at her coldly.  
“Exactly. I am. And unlike you, I've heard more of the story. She never promised my father anything before she stayed in Gwyncuan for good. She had different reasons, more valid ones and I won't argue with that. But I have mine and they are good enough for me.”  
“So what is this for you? What are we for you?”  
“You... I...” – she paused it – “I like being with you. And I didn't plan to stop before this stupid argument, that you started.”  
“And now you want to leave? You see a problem... no, not a problem. You see a commitment and you have enough. I cannot understand you. Most of women...”  
“So go on and find some other, then. Some more to your liking. Some with the same FEELINGS as yours. Go!” – she shouted.  
“Don't you think I would want to?” – he asked coldly. – “But I love you of all the women. The one, who doesn't love me back.”  
“I didn't say that...” – she whispered looking down on the ground.  
“Wh...?”

She was breathing heavily.

_Just don't leave me. Just... give me space, give me time..._

He spoke calmly, softly:  
“Come back to berth, Idi.”

She looked at him in defiance, at first. But he didn't move, he just extended his hand to her. She took off her shoes and took a few steps to lay next to him. She felt, that she was trembling. He was looking at her for a long time before he kissed her. He undressed her again, kissing every part of her body, which he revealed. They made love facing each other, looking in each other's eyes. It was when she came, looking in those limitless grass-green eyes when she knew, that nothing would be simple anymore.  
They rested, entangled for a long time. He was still kissing her, tracing her skin with his fingers. She shivered at the sensation. He only smiled and released her from the weight of his body. For a few minutes, they dared not to speak. When he opened his mouth again, she moved to him and said:  
“Cidran...” – straddling him to stop him before he would say anything else.

She had no idea how much she got from her mother...


	86. Fen Blathe 1298

FEN

 

Blathe 1298  
the harbour  
Lan Exter  
Kovir and Povis

In the port, there was always too much to do. When she checked the last rope and was sure, that hawsers will hold, she descended from the ship to the quay. All the rest of her companions were in the port looking for the kids. But their ship was not there, she could say. When she joined Saskia, the latter stated:  
“They are not here, yet.”  
“I know, I haven't seen the ship. They shall be here shortly, though. They are devils with a wheel in their hands and wind in sails.”  
“Yeah... You think, that they may have changed their minds?”  
“No. They will come.”  
“Eryr!” – she heard Isengrim's voice and turned around. To her utter surprise, she saw him standing with Iorveth and:  
“Gwynbleidd?” – Saskia whispered next to her and they both headed quickly to the group.  
A woman was standing with them, cloaked in black and white, with long curly raven-black hair and lilac eyes.  
“Saskia! Fen!” – Geralt greeted them.  
“My friend! And you must be...” – Saskia started, but was interrupted:  
“Yennefer of Vengerberg. Your legend precedes you, Saesenthessis. And you, Lyanna. It's a pleasure to meet both of you.”  
“The pleasure is all ours” – Fen replied with a smile. – “Sorry to be so blunt, but... Gwynbleidd you look perfectly fine for a missing man in danger.”  
“About that... I was called by king Tankred to help with a dragon, which was roaming in the North. It was a dangerous job, but...”  
“Nothing special” – Iorveth ended for him.  
“Yes. I came a month ago and I realised that something is not right with the whole story... But, by then, Ciri was already in trouble” – Yennefer stated.  
“She is perfectly fine” – Fen said. – “They are sailing here as we speak. In a matter of fact, they shall be here any moment. Maybe we can head back to the quay and wait for them?”  
“Yes. It's a good plan” – Yennefer agreed.

They conversed lightly for another hour. She felt Isengrim's possessive grip on her waist again and looked at his face. He was watching Geralt intently, but said nothing.

_Ah... You are waiting for a blow... Hmm..._

When he realised, that she is watching him - he smiled gently and she kissed him softly, smiling to their kiss. Just then, it was Lambert, who said:  
“I see them” – looking at the horizon.  
And he was right. Half an hour later, their ship was moored. When she saw her daughters smiling proudly, standing close to their... partners, she couldn't stop a grin. She leaned to Isengrim's ear and whispered:  
“Why they are so much like us, me mienne?”  
“Well...” – Isengrim started and chuckled softly.  
“I know, I know... They are our daughters. But still: Idril and her free love, and Deoiridh in love with a dh'oine...”

Children descended and greeted them. It was Cidran, who came to her and said:  
“You sailed with speed.”  
“You were too busy on the way, weren't you?”  
“I... The wind was slowing us down” – he answered with a small smile.  
“Obviously... Still, you all did a good job. I can only be proud” – she replied with a smile of her own.

Close to them, Ciri was hugging Geralt closely and they were deep in a conversation. They all made quite an interesting company: Daegan with his commando, dead officers of the Vrihedd Brigade, three witchers, two sorceresses, two vampires, Saskia, Fen with Tallula and two of her Riders, former officer of the Blue Stripes, Seamus and Gilbert. Fen decided quickly after the greetings:  
“We must disappear from here, we stand out.”  
“You're right. We have a place: a small mansion on the outskirts of the city. We'll show you the way” – Geralt stated.  
“Another estate?” – Ciri asked.  
“Yes. Officially mine this time” – Yennefer answered with a small smile.

 

The mansion was enchanting. It was all in black and white, with dark graphite tiles. It was hidden deep in an orchard and trees were blooming all around it. From the distance, it looked truly idyllic.  
As they approached, they noticed three figures waiting for them at the doorstep. And this view froze blood in her veins. She felt that Isengrim's hand, which was holding hers gently before, was now clenching almost painfully. But he didn't speak or stop, to the contrary: he sped up his pace. Sshe followed without a word. She heard other footsteps closely behind them and heard Iorveth's voice:  
“What the fuck are they doing here?”  
“I'm going to find out” – was Isengrim's answer, uttered through clenched teeth.

It took them maybe a minute to stand in front of the three uninvited guests.  
“Isengrim Faoiltiarna and Iorveth... It's impossible” – the Seidhe with silver hair almost whispered.  
“Why are you here, Filavandrel? And you, Enid? How dare you to stand before us?”  
“I am your Queen” – the most beautiful woman in the world replied calmly. – “And we are more than happy to see you alive, my dear friends.”  
“Friends?” – Iorveth snarled. – “You sent us to our death.”  
“Which didn't happen, obviously” – she replied.  
“Not thanks to you” – Isengrim growled.

They were standing like that, in silence, for a long while before Fen decided to break it:  
“And you must be Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha, the meddling Aen Saevherne. I would like to say, that it's a pleasure, but I have a feeling, that all that happened to us the last year is your fault. So I will restrain myself from lying.”  
“You are as sharp as they say, Lyanna. I, on the other hand, am honoured to meet the famous miracle-maker” – he replied.  
“I seriously doubt that, but then again... I will doubt any word, which will come out of your mouth. I doubt, that this is a social call, as well. You wouldn't be here otherwise” – she replied with a voice cold as ice.  
“Your daughters get much from you, including voice, have you heard that already?” – Avallac'h asked politely.  
“And sarcasm” – Filavandrel added.  
“Don't you dare to speak of my daughters, whom you deceived, as you had deceived us long ago. And you put them in danger, as well” – Isengrim said in a dangerous voice.  
“But you know much about deception, too. Don't you, Is? Or shall I say: Isengrim Faoiltiarna aep Gealdrel from the White Ships, Lord of the Golden Gate” – Francesca spoke slowly with a smirk.

When Fen heard Francesca's words, she didn't speak, but swallowed loudly. Isengrim tensed again, but was silent, as well. No one dared to breathe or speak for long minutes. Then, Fen, Iorveth and Saskia looked at Isengrim, who still neither moved nor spoke. Fen decided to change the subject to give him time to gather himself:  
“And why, pray tell me, you are saying all of this in front of a dh'oine?”  
“Please, Lyanna. You are no ordinary dh'oine. The blood of Aen Seidhe flows in your veins. And Makenna was no ordinary Aen Seidhe, either. She dreamt future, as she did yours. Have you never considered, why the practical woman like her preferred to die than to make you the most powerful woman in Redania?”

Now, it was Lyanna's turn to be dumbfounded. Iorveth's angry voice broke the silence:  
“What do you want, Crevan?”  
“To save you all.”

If she was dumbfounded before, now she simply gaped at the Elle with both of her eyebrows raised high. Ciri approached them in a moment and asked with anger:  
“How? Would you use me as a brooding mare again, Avallac'h? Or send me to die? You know, that it's getting boring...”  
“Ciri, don't say that” – Daegan stated slowly standing at her side.  
“No” – Avallac'h replied with a small smile – “I will teach you how to navigate, Zirael. I believe, that we - you and I - can achieve the goal without... well... waiting for a miracle to happen. But first, we need to gather all - no one is staying on this Continent this time. No more mistakes...” – he added with determination. – “This is why we need all of you. And we need hope.”

Everyone looked at him in disbelieve.


	87. Isengrim Blathe 1298

ISENGRIM

 

Blathe 1298  
the mansion  
Lan Exter  
Kovir and Povis

Many hours later, he was standing alone in the orchard. He was simply looking ahead at the horizon with many thoughts on his mind. What they've heard and what they needed to decide about... was overwhelming. Everything they've done was in vain, truly. Fighting a war, losing so many... then building their lives again from scratch. It was all to be in vain.

_If there was a way out from the very beginning, why did we risked it all? Why did I lead men to their death? We could have prevented it all: the suffering, the pain... We were lied to for such a long time and I... I made my men believe in our cause, in their lies._

“Is” – it was Fen, who brought him back to reality.  
“Eryr...”  
“I know you, me mienne. I know what you're thinking. This was not your fault.”  
“But...”  
“No, no buts, me mienne. You are not taking responsibility for the actions of men much older and supposedly much wiser than you, including at least two Aen Saevherne. They deceived you and used you. All of you. “  
“I will always feel guilt.”  
“I know” – she said hugging him. – “I love you” – she whispered and hugged him even closer.  
“I should have told you... you are the mother of my daughters I... should have known, that one day - it's who they are, what may put them in a danger. “  
“I know how it is to run from the past - I was doing it for more than a decade. You always hope, that you won't need to face it.”  
“You faced it head first, ma mienne.”  
“I was tired: of guilt, of lying, of what I did to you. I faced it due to egoistic reasons, not because it was the right thing to do. You, on the other hand, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Your legacy is a reason for pride, as is your own life, me mienne. Your name is a legend not because of your father's bloodline, but because of your own actions.”  
“I led men to their death, Eryr. There is not much to be proud of. But, I believed it to be the only way, now... I know it wasn't true.”  
“But you couldn't have know it then. Now, you will lead the Aen Seidhe again - to the better future, safer one. Far from these cursed lands.”  
“We are leaving humans here for their doom, ma mienne” – he said looking at her intently.  
“Maybe... No one knows the future for sure. But... you owe them nothing, Is” – she replied slowly.  
“No, we don't.”  
“You know... they'll probably survive, they always do” – they laughed at that quietly. – “But they'll forget us, they'll forget the Aen Seidhe. It's probably for the best, too. Hopefully, they'll be able to make peace among themselves.”  
“Dh'oine? You seriously believe that?”  
“Probably not tomorrow... But one day - one day they will. One day they'll realise, that it's peace or... no future at all.”  
“I hope, that Aen Ithlinnespeath will never come true” – he stated seriously.  
“You do?” – she inquired quite surprised.  
“Yes. I despise them, most of them at least. But, I don't hate them enough to wish for their total extinction.”

They were standing for a long time in silence, deep in their own thoughts. Suddenly, they heard a blast and turned around. Idril and Deoiridh were training their magic with Avallac'h and Yennefer, at last.

_No more accidental magic. Thankfully._

He smiled at Fen gently and she was thinking the same, judging by the relive on her face. Then, she smirked and motioned her head towards the forest behind the orchard. They headed there silently, careful not to be caught by their own children.


	88. Deoiridh the night of Midaëte 1298

DEOIRIDH

 

the night of Midaëte 1298  
the Seahorse Tavern  
Lan Exter  
Kovir and Povis

In Blathe, their parents decided to head home. They went together with Filavandrel and Enid aen Gleanna - planning to gather every living Aen Seidhe and ask them to go to Gwyncuan. In some years, they would sail from there throughout time and space, hopefully. But their hope was raging right now, screaming at Avallac'h:  
“It's not working, Avallac'h!”  
“Oh... Zirael. You need to be patient. Even Caranthir needed years to master it” – he tried to calm her down. Unsuccessfully.  
“But we may not have years!”  
“So stop screaming and do it again.”

It looked like that for hours before she stamped her food with rage, went to Daegan and dragged him to the mansion. Deoiridh found their routine charming. After an hour or two, they would emerge again and she would resume training relaxed... for a short while.  
She looked at Avallac'h, who was pensively looking at the horizon. She approached him and stated calmly:  
“She will never give up, you know it.”  
“I do. But her moods require a lot of patience. I thought, that mine is limitless, but she proved me wrong, again” – he replied resignedly. – “But you all surprised me, Deoiridh. You seem to come to terms with what you've learned during the last year.”  
“We are the blood of the Aen Seidhe. We are what we need to be” – she replied in a strong voice.  
“Yes, luned. You are. All of you: you are unbreakable.”  
“Avallac'h?”  
“Yes?”  
“What will be Gilbert's fate in Tir ná Liá?”  
“Nothing happens without a reason, luned. You've met him following the footsteps of your destiny. He was destined to come with us. Things are slowly changing there, as well. I believe, that I can find a very good explanation for taking some dh'oine with us. Not as...”  
“...slaves. This is what you should say.”  
“Yes. But as our partners.”  
“And what would be your explanation?”  
“You will hear it, but not yet” – he said with a mysterious smile. – “Do not worry, luned. He is safe. Your father is known even to my kin, the Aen Elle, and he is respected, too. No one will dare to undermine his decision as to Gilbert, Seamus, Vernon and other inhabitants of Gwyncuan. Ge'els is not a cruel man.”

After a few days, they decided, that Ciri needed a break and she decided to go for the Path for the last time before the Great Journey. But she didn't go alone... Daegan's commando was to go with inhabitants of Gwyncuan home... But Daegan didn't want to leave her, so they were to go together: the Lioness with her Lion. Avallac'h, obviously, had his own business to attend to, so he disappeared, promising to meet them next spring in Gwyncuan.  
The seven young companions planned to spend the last evening together in the city, in the tavern known as Seahorse. The famous bard, Pantea Ateia, was just giving a performance and the tavern was quite full, but they found a free table.  
When the bard finished her famous song the entire hall of the tavern was applauding. All, but seven young people sitting at the table in the corner. Cidran accidentally caused the glass to fell and both Idril and Deoiridh moved to gather the pieces. They both cut their palms and their blood flowed to the ground, which was now crimson in the light of the full moon shining through the window in the dark corner of the tavern. Everyone looked at each other when they heard the howling of wolfs breaking the silence of the night. When they looked through the window, they saw snowflakes falling gently to the ground. It was the night of Midaëte, the first night of summer...  
Her eyes met with those of the female bard and they stared at each other for a long time. Pantea descended from the scene and headed in their direction. When she sat next to them, they were all silent - waiting for the crowd to resume their conversations. The moment the tavern was loud again, the newcomer only whispered:  
“So, it's time... A lot will be lost, but... let me commemorate your legend, because soon, it would only be a story, then a rumour. In the end to become a whisper. Soon, no one will believe, that you were here. But I don't want it to be forgotten.”


	89. Crevan Saovine 1302

CREVAN

 

Saovine 1302  
Bregdetit-të-Bardhë (Gwyncuan)

He was approaching the beach when he noticed the person he was looking for. The sea was roaring near to them. She was sitting alone on the white beach, behind her was the white slope of the mountain. The scent of pines was everywhere. Few meters from her, Idril and Deoiridh were strolling by the sea, but turned and stopped - looking intently at their mother.  
She still looked much younger, than she should, but a few silver hair was already gracing her auburn hair. He noticed the wrinkle around her eyes, too.

_She will leave them... much sooner than they hope._

He wasn't sure why this thought brought him such a sorrow. Something about passing, about leaving everything behind... was still causing his heart to clench painfully.

 _Lara... How many years am I missing her by now?_  
_Isengrim, you have no idea what you'll live through once she is gone, but... it's too late and there is no way out... You brought this sorrow and pain on yourself. How did she put it? Ah... I can assure you, that whatever harm will come from this would be entirely your doing. It's an interesting way to fall in love, even I must admit that... But she was right. You'll suffer for the rest of your long life, Isengrim, and nothing will ease this pain. Still... tomorrow is not today._

Lyanna noticed him and stated:  
“There is much more snow, than usually and the chill...”  
“Yes. Soon, it will be hard to farm here, in Gwyncuan” – Crevan replied.  
“Galel and Ves with their family decided to head back to Temeria. They...”  
“...are not ready to go, yet. I've heard, but there may be no other chance for them.”  
“I know. I've already asked Geralt and Yennefer to help them. Ciri will probably go to see them too, if...”  
“...she would be able to come back” – he finished for her. – “She is the Lady of Time and Space. Nothing will stop her from coming back to Geralt and Yennefer, I've learned it: the hard way” – they both chuckled at that and became silent for a moment. He continued:  
“You've built your life twice already, you will do it again.”  
“I know... I just wished the last time to be the last.”

They were looking at the great ship - Eärrámë - arriving at the Harbor with Angus at the wheel and Cidran with Gilbert at sails. Their phoenix, Ngobaith, was sitting comfortably on the top of the mast.

_He is coming with us... Or she? Hard to say..._

Ciri approached them and looked at the horizon:  
“Zirael... are you ready?” – Crevan asked her with concern.  
“I was born ready” – was her answer. She looked at the harbour with determination and headed there to greet the boys.

Isengrim stood with Coinneach at the top of the mountain, watching all his people packing and preparing to leave the Continent:  
“I've always known, that it would be you, who leads us one day to the future, my friend” – the older Seidhe stated. – “Or at least - thanks to you” – they both chuckled.  
“I know, I remember” – the other Seidhe replied. – “But it's Eryr, who truly led our people out of the Realms and now out of the Continent. I'm just following her orders.”  
“And you are very good at it” – Neach joked. – “But thanks to that, also some dh'oine are travelling with us. If the Continent is indeed destroyed by the snow, there will be enough genetic material to restore human population one day.”  
“You sound like Avallac'h” – Isengrim stated.  
“I'm taking it as a compliment” – replied said Aen Saevherne approaching them. – “But you are right. Then, they'll worship us as gods... I had the same idea, Coinneach.”  
“What?” – it was Albert who climbed up there just in time to hear this conversation – “Over my dead body...”  
“Well... of that I'm sure” – Crevan replied.  
“Wha...! You are evil, I hope you know that” – Albert stated, but laughed, nonetheless.

All three: both Aen Seidhe and a human looked at him when he stated:  
“Zirael and Eryr from Eärrámë. It sounds like a beautiful beginning of the new chapter in the history of Aen Undod. Soon united, once more, by two half-breed inh'eid. Well, this is irony, don't you agree?” – His voice was almost bored, but sarcastic nonetheless – “How exciting!”  
“Yes, this is an irony. But who cares? We are leaving our homes again. Eternal travellers... But my home is where they are: Eryr, Tylluan and Cudyll. And soon, it will be far from here, much further than I've ever imagined I would go” – Isengrim stated slowly.

A few hours later, the captain of the ship - Lyanna Eryr Eärrámë - was standing at the wheel. Close to her was her navigator, Cirilla Fiona Ellen Riannon - Zirael.

_It's good, that they came back in time from their little job in Nilfgaard... But then again... Timing was always her thing..._

“Well, my dear Cidran” – Crevan heard Lyanna saying – “hoist the sails. We can start, while everyone else is getting on the ships.”

 _Ess'tuath esse!_ Were the last words he was pondering on before they sailed out.


	90. Feainn 1477

Witcher book series related characters, places and themes belong to Andrzej Sapkowski. The Witcher games related characters, places and themes belong to CD Projekt Red. Characters, places and themes related to other works, especially by J.R.R. Tolkien and George R.R. Martin, belong to their authors or legal successors.

 

 

THE AEN SEIDHE TALES

 

Epilogue

 

The Eagle, The Wolf, The Dragon and The Fox

 

Feainn 1477  
deep forests in Brugge  
once upon a time Duén Canell in Brokilon

Two about fifteen-years-old girls were travelling on the main road through a deep forest. Both girls had auburn hair: the one looking older had a medium-cut and the younger had long, soft waves gracing her face and shoulders. Around them, the trees were whispering the words of old – spruce, oak, pine, birch, willow and beech, all murmuring softly:

_“There is no fear, me mienne, when you know how the story ends. And ours, as all the tales of the Aen Seidhe, was doomed before it started. It must end in blood, fire and death. But it is the memory and the sorrow, that lingers”._

But the girls were oblivious to that, while they held an argument.

_Typical dh'oine..._

Their voices were heard far into the forest:  
“But, Leya. It is just an old story and a ballad! Nothing more, no one found this supposed statues!” – the one with shorter hair said.  
“Pantea! It doesn't mean, that they don't exist!” – answered the younger one.  
“You're right. But you are dragging me deeper and deeper into the forest. Do we know the way back?”  
“Obviously!” – the younger answered, but uncertainty was clear in her voice.

During the argument, one of the girls - Leya, looked South to the ancient centre of the forest, in their direction. As he realised, she noticed the ancient willow and the brook - the symbol of Brokilon. And then, to his surprise - she looked straight at him, but probably couldn't see two tall silhouettes standing between the trees.

 _This piercing blue eyes. They make me remember the first time I run my hand through her hair, the first time I touched her pale skin. The first time I felt her so fully, so completely... Not this girl, obviously.._.

The voice of his friend made him come back to reality:  
“They wouldn't see us even if they walked just next us. I've heard, that they even say now, that we didn't exist. Can you imagine?” – he asked in contemptuous voice – “Bloede dh'oine...”

But he was wrong. The young girl stopped and pointed her finger exactly at them:  
“Pantea, look! Someone is there.”

Both men looked at each other in utter surprise, but didn't move. When the girls gathered their courage and approached them, it was his friend who whispered:  
“Now I know how...” – he smiled. – “These eyes, I remember very similar ones... Ves” – he stated pensively.

And truly, he was right. The girls could be her, what? Hmm... great, great, great, great, great granddaughters... But it was a pure speculation. It had been, until he saw the ring on the older girl's finger: the same her ancestor received two hundred years ago in not-existing any longer Passiflora.

_“Our story will be yours very soon and I want you to have good memories before I go into this morning. No good or gentle, but still it will come to an end for me. But not for you. Our lives were but a dream”._

He considered disappearing deeper into the forest, but girls were already close to them and deep into the ancient forest. Without guidance, they would never come back home. The older girl looked at both of them with curiosity, but soon he heard her younger sister's excited outburst:  
“Pantea! Here! I knew it!”  
“This is... they are real...” – whispered the older one.  
Both were looking with an owe at the four statues made from white Ammell marble, but girls couldn't know it. To their right - there was a dragon in a smaller form, but still bigger than other statues and it was looking straight ahead. In front of the dragon - there was a fox, in a moving pose, as if it was to jump in the dragon's direction. Its eyes were looking at the dragon with adoration. In the direction of the dragon's gaze - there was a wolf, standing with his back to them and looking up to an eagle. The wolfs gaze was filled with passion, but sorrowful. The eagle was already in the air, with one of its wings still warped around the wolfs waist, but the other majestically opened in the air. The eagle was looking up into the sky.

_“And maybe, just maybe one day our story will turn into the legend. The wolf and the eagle, lost in the whispers of Brokilon, forever”._

All four of them were standing still, staring at the statues. The younger girl looked at him. She was thinking hard for a long time, but in the end, she asked quietly:  
“Is the legend true?”  
“Which one?” – he replied with a question.  
“Of the eagle and the wolf: of the woman with a dark secret and the man with a determination to change everything. That she risked everything to save him and left him, but they found each other in the end. Is it true?”  
“Yes. It was a long time ago... And she left him more than once, only to allow him to find her every single time” – he replied with a sad smile.  
“Are they buried here?” – the girl inquired further.  
“No. Her body rests far away from here, in a better place some may say.”  
“And...” – her older sister started, but asked nothing.  
“Yes?” – he inquired.  
“What about you?” – she asked quietly and he looked pensively at the girl.

_Can she believe, even here - in times, when the Aen Seidhe are said to be just a story, just a legend?_

“My place was always at her side” – he answered slowly.  
“And what of the dragon and the fox? Did they truly free the Valley?” – the younger asked again.  
“Yes and no. But they did everything they could” – his friend answered.  
“And when he left, did she follow him?”  
“She did. And they were together for a time” – there was something dreamy in his friend's voice.  
“And what happened?”  
“She was called again. For the longest journey, that she ever ventured.”  
“And why didn't you follow her?”  
"I wasn't called, yet” – his friend's last reply was so filled with sorrow, that even the girls turned they eyes from them.

They were silent for a while before the older girl started again:  
“These little flowers, what are they?”  
“Feainewedd... They bloom only where the Elder blood was spilt and where Aen Seidhe and Aen Elle are buried” – his friend answered.  
“Who is buried here?” – the younger girl inquired further.  
“Exactly here? No one. They are just a memory of the past long gone” – he said and closed his eyes.

_“I promise, me mienne, I will wait for you”._

After long minutes of silence, he stated:  
“Come, girls. We will show you the way back, but do not venture here again. Just... remember the story for only as a story it exists.”  
With that final sentence, they went back to the main road. The moment girls saw it - the two tall men with silver hair were gone, disappearing into a thin air.  
Or... have they never been there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hans Zimmer, Lisa Gerrard, Moya Brennan „Sorrow”


	91. Map

Map

 

The Road of Refugees

 

<https://ibb.co/MNd13Hm?fbclid=IwAR3geizVqT7mCTi7cWj28XRQoYhDrxj7H-sVYv8SJHGGsi1lXH-k-O_AFhA>

 


End file.
